


Don’t Break Me Down, Brick Me Up, Fence Me In

by agape_eternal



Category: Swimming RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Phlochte - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-11
Updated: 2009-10-12
Packaged: 2017-10-25 22:05:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/275331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agape_eternal/pseuds/agape_eternal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People just don’t understand Ryan and the way his mind works…and he’s locked in a Psych Ward because of it, though, according to him, he’s completely sane. But along comes Michael and he gets Ryan and that’s all that matters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Unfortunately I don’t own the boys. This is completely AU which is abnormal for me. Style borrowed from three books I love: Skin Game, Cut, and Suicide Notes just in case you noticed. No copyright infringement intended. The descriptions of people and/or disorders is not meant to be derogatory or offensive, trust me. Also, this one is kinda personal for me, so if you’re gonna tear it apart, don’t do it in the comments ok? Thanks.

_****_I’m the only sane one in this place. No really, I am.

Ok, well there’s Chris, and he’s pretty sane too. His parents sent him here to figure out what’s wrong with him, only there’s nothing _really_ wrong with him except they found out he’s gay…and he’s got a couple of quirks but hey, don’t we ALL? What’s “normal” anyway? They asked that in my Psych 101 class and we never got a clear answer. Should I be worried?

Anyway, other than us two, these people are psychotic, really.

One girl set herself on fire. Well actually, she set her moms boyfriend on fire because he molested her and she got set on fire too. He didn’t die though and she’s still pissed about that. One guy just stares at his shoes and is just…kinda weird. He’s the quiet type, but by choice, and kinda a loner. Another girl is a cutter, which I have to admit doesn’t exactly weird me out…but she’s also an ED (or “food issue” as they call it here) case and a laxative junkie. She restricts her food (you should see the way she picks at her plate and cuts everything in itty-bitty pieces and drinks lots of water between each bite to fill up) then binges (with the food she’s stolen and wrapped it in a napkin to take to her room) and either throws it up or shits it out.

The only girl I like here is Matty. I dunno what her real name is but she doesn’t talk. She’s traumatized I guess, but I don’t know why or how. She carries around this stuffed Eeyore from back in the day when Winnie-The-Pooh was just starting so his tail is pinned to his ass with a button instead of a bow. Something about her makes me feel safe. I dunno, it just does. The last girl, I dunno WHAT her problem is, but she says her imaginary friend doesn’t like me so I guess that’s all I needed to know and she’s an ED case as well. I dunno if the food issues made her crazy or she has food issues _because_ she’s crazy, either way, she’s frickin loony tunes, I’m serious. That chick is _bat shit CRAZY_. Like the type they show in the movies where they’re talking to thin air and trying to pick fly shit out of pepper.

Then there’s Chris and Me. Chris is a SI case too, but he has a million different methods, not just one like most people. He tried to OD on a bunch of pills ironically instead of cutting his wrists which is how most SI cases tend to try and do it (so I’ve heard). It obviously didn’t work. He said when they put the tube down his throat and pumped his stomach, he felt like he was dying, more than when he’d taken all the drugs (that he said he had saved for the occasion…) and that he’d felt the sides of his stomach touch together. That’s just plain wrong and TMI. He still says he wished they’d have fucked up and killed him on accident. And yeah, ok, I guess that’s why his parents sent him here, with the rest of the whack jobs.

There are seven of us on this ward (if you hadn’t already figured that out. I know some of y’all can’t count)…Actually, I take that back. There are six of them, and one of me. Chris is still a ‘them’ because he _is_ a little off, but that’s got nothing to do with him being gay, because it would be totally hypocritical of me to not like him because he’s gay, and not to mention it’s a pretty lame ass excuse to not like someone.

Anyways, there are five wards, or ‘units’, at Four Winds (a.k.a Break Winds, Blow Winds, or my fave Club Meds. But really, take your pick. AND, before you say anything, I didn’t make those names up, so don’t even go there…): Kids younger than six, Kids 6-8, Kids 8-12, Kids 13-18, and people 18 and older. All the kid wards are grouped together under one name, “The Deerfield Unit”, but they’re separated by age groups. It’s confusing as hell. The wards are co-ed, but the dorms and bathrooms aren’t which is kind of a big fat NO SHIT SHERLOCK, DUH. The boys are at one end of the hall, the girls at the other. I don’t know what they do with trans kids yet. They should be where they want to though, it's not fair to tell a kid they're wrong about something that they know they're right about. Just because they were born one way doesn't mean it's right. God makes mistakes too, obviously. We don’t have any in our unit right now, but there are a couple in the 8-12 unit. I think it'd be cool to meet them. I guess I’ll walk over there eventually and check it out. Curiosity killed the cat you know, but obviously that only works on kitties.

This place, when you think about it, isn’t really so bad. We’re in a nice, secluded, woodsy area somewhere in New York, and that’s pretty cool, if it’s your thing. It isn’t mine, I don’t like the outdoors that much, but if it’s yours, well congratulations. It’s winter right now so the trees look like skeletons…and it rains a lot so the rain slides down the windows and it looks like skeletons drowning, though if they’re skeletons, wouldn’t they already be dead? So maybe skeletons swimming? Whatever, I dunno.

We live in cottages and everything is communal, like the eating area, dorms, and bathrooms, which isn’t so cool for me, but whatever. I like having my own space but I guess it’s almost like being at a summer camp (except for the wire going through the windows of the dorm rooms). There’s places to play for the littler kids, like jungle gyms and stuff and all kinds of games and activities for the older ones. It’s better than being in a state hospital where they keep the REAL crazies. Sure, these people are plenty fucked up, but I guess it could be worse.

My parents are paying good money for me to be here, which is a waste really. Like I already told you, I’m totally sane. Well actually, I take that back, about the payment I mean. The insurance company is the one paying for me to be here…which is STILL a waste; they could be using that to fix something or someone that really needs the fixing, which I don’t. I’m not the crazy one around here. Everyone else is, this is just a mix up that I’m trying to sort out, but it doesn’t seem to be workin so well…

Ignore the bandages on my wrists…the whole thing about me trying to kill myself? See, that’s just a misunderstanding. I didn’t wanna DIE, per se, I just, you know, was trying to kill SOMEHTING inside. We’ve all done that, had a part of ourselves we didn’t really like and just wanted it to go away. I just DID something about it. I’m an SI case myself (I guess since I only did it three times)…and I have to tell you, it's addicting, kinda like cocaine I hear. I'm not a druggie though, so I don’t know from experience. But I have OCD (apparently, just because I like things a certain way) and I know how addicting things can be and it really, _really_ is. I know that sounds weird. How can cutting your arms up (or my favorite line: she’s carved up like a goddamn Virginia ham!) be addicting?

But don’t let it, the description I mean, fool you, it is. It starts as one line, one cut, like a test drive…you know how you try a car out to see how it feels? You test whether it fits your needs and whether you like it not. SI (or SH) is the same way. It’s not a common way to solve a problem, but it starts kinda dysfunctional anyway. It all starts because you’re hurting inside for whatever reason, it doesn’t matter what. You want it to stop so you figure “hey, if I’m hurting on the outside, the inside pain won’t be so bad.” Maybe it’s an accident, like getting a bruise or a paper cut and it hits you that you’re preoccupied with the pain on the outside as opposed to the pain on the inside. Or maybe it doesn’t. It doesn’t matter. However you get there is how you get there. It doesn’t matter what sets you off or why.

So, you do one line and that’s where the pain comes in, then another and another and it stops hurting so much even though you WANT it too, that’s the damn point. But it dulls to a throb and you just keep going, trying for the same pain or go over the same cut to make it hurt more. And before you know it, your arm is covered and you spend a week trying to hide it with long sleeves and a laundry list of excuses that never work. But you realize the pain on the inside isn’t as bad as the pain on the outside, you’ve traded one hurt for another. But you can control the hurt on the outside, not on the inside. And that was the point. I wanted to end it once and for all, but I'll be damned if they didn't save me, why I'll never know. But that doesn’t make me crazy and it sure as hell doesn’t warrant me being in here. But I am, I’m stuck here. 50 days for a starter…that’s all insurance is willing to pay for, and then we’ll see what happens. I don’t think I need to be here longer than that, really. I don’t think I should be here AT ALL.

I’ve already been here five days. I’ve only been awake for two. At the hospital, they gave me this stuff called Thorazine. Let me tell you, that’s heavy duty shit. You can’t even, like, get high off it, it just knocks you completely out.

I guess I deserved it though, I mean if you agree with _them_. I wouldn’t talk to the nurses at the hospital, I wouldn’t do what they said, I just stared. Maybe I was in shock that actually I woke up, I’m not exactly sure. The last thing I remembered was sitting on the floor in my room and I dunno, I had had enough with what I wanted to get out, so I figured I could kill it, or cut it out…and it didn’t work. I woke up, my arms were throbbing (but it was weird, like I knew I was feeling it but almost like I was experiencing it through someone else) and I couldn’t do anything. I don’t know what happened, all I know is, I stopped talking. I didn’t plan it, it just happened. It’s hard to explain, but it just doesn’t work, the talking I mean.

At the hospital they asked me my name, I blinked. They asked if my name was Ryan, I blinked. They asked me to move my arm, I blinked. They asked me to wiggle my fingers and I just stared. They asked if I even knew where I was, I didn’t say anything. I don’t know if it was the blood loss or what, but my voice doesn’t wanna work anymore. Which is fine, I don’t wanna talk to these people anyway.

They tried to get me to “go quietly” or whatever, but I wasn’t having it. I don’t NEED to be here. I didn’t yell or say anything, obviously, but I fought them. I wouldn’t let them move me and I wouldn’t move myself. So they shot me in the arm with that Thorazine shit and I was out in under a minute. I guess they kept giving it to me because I only remember waking up two days later and being here. One girl, I’m not sure if she was a nurse, orderly, or what, left my chart sitting on my bed. Who the hell does that? Anyway, I picked it up to read it and in big ass letters across the top it said, “PSYCHIATRIC WARD.” When the girl came back she took the folder from me and said I wasn’t supposed to be reading it. Well she shouldn’t’ve left it there, duh. I didn’t say anything to her and she said I had been involuntarily committed and I didn’t have a say in it, that I had a “problem” and that “we’re just trying to figure out what’s bothering you so we can help sort it out and make it better.” There’s nothing bothering me, I’m fine, I just need to GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE.

After I woke up again, the day nurse, well one of them, Nurse Smiley (seriously, it’s her name) came in and said she wanted to ask me some questions (like “why did you try to kill yourself?” and “what’s bothering you sweetie? Tell me so we can help…”). I didn’t answer any of them and she left, telling me, “I’ll just get the doctor,” which meant my psychiatrist, Dr. Wyman (which is right. “Why Man”, am I even here? I don’t NEED any help, I’m totally fine and well adjusted to teenage life…it’s ok to snort here, really…). He said I was being uncooperative and I just shrugged. I wasn’t gonna talk to any of them and I really didn’t give a shit what they did or said.

So he left (because apparently I was “wasting his time at the moment”) and they brought in another woman, Nurse Supersad (seriously, what the fuck is even up with these names?!) who asked me all these things about if I took any kind of drugs (coke, heroin, weed, meth {which when I didn’t give her an answer quick enough she had to go through all it’s OTHER names: Crystal, ice, tina…before I finally gave her the thumbs down}, speed, alcohol, GHB, Ecstasy, LSD, snappers, glue, inhalants like vicks, whiteout, and paint, vicodin, OxyContin, OxyCotton {which is the street version of OxyContin because it’s mixed with OxyCodone, which she told me because I had no idea}, codeine, zamadol, palladone, diamorphine, morphine, co-dydramol, dexomon, Percocet, Demerol, Diluadid, Pholcodeine, Proheptazine…you name it, she asked. Most of that stuff I’d never even HEARD of let alone tried) and just to give her a thumbs up or down.

I thumbs downed it all (except vicodin) because I haven’t done any of that stuff. Like I said, I’m not a druggie, never have been and never will be. I don’t like the feeling of being high, which I know from vicodin when I had my tooth pulled out. It’s fuzzy and weird, which I was already feeling from the “wonder” drug they’d been feeding me. It’s blue and looks like a goddam Pez candy, but it sure as hell AIN’T one. Then she wanted to ask me about my sexual history which is none of her fucking business and I told her as much…I gave her the finger and didn’t “cooperate” anymore meaning I turned onto my side, showing her my back. She left saying, “I’ll just get the doctor,” which seems to be the thing to do around here if you don’t play along, which I obviously wasn’t, like the docs are the damn National Guard or some shit.

So of course I got in trouble for not cooperating, but I didn’t care. Who I have or haven’t slept with isn’t any of her or this place’s damn business. It’s mine and I’m not saying, or writing, anything about it. So Why Man came back in and asked if I planned on cooperating. I didn’t make a move at all, not even a thumbs down or shaking my head so they gave me a pill to take, a small red round one that looked like a ladybug, saying that I needed to “rest a little more” and I figured, why the hell not, as long as I’m here, I might as well nap. So I took the ladybug pill and I didn’t wake up til the next day, probably more Thorazine. I still haven’t said a word and I don’t plan on it. It’s not like I really have a choice anyway.

And that’s why Chris calls me S.T., for “Silent Treatment”. He thinks I should talk to him, but I won’t. I won’t talk to anyone. Not to the nurses Supersad, Smiley or any other ones (although the night one, Ruby, she’s nice), not to Why Man, not to the group therapist. I’m not talking to any of these people. So life here for me is pretty damn boring.

But it’s crazy scheduled, like I’m in the military or a private school or something.

In the morning, they wake you up with a bell that sounds like the ones in my high school that tell you to go to class. I have an alarm clock that wakes me up too, but I never listen to it. I never did. Then the nurse comes in to make sure you’re at least up and wakes you if you’re not then tells you to get dressed. They do give us time to shower if we want and brush our teeth and stuff, which is all supervised I might add (except the shower), total invasion of privacy. We have to come out and have breakfast in the dining room with all the other kids in our unit (though it’s still separated by age, so all the same aged kids sit together to avoid mixing (I dunno what they’re afraid of, furreal). Then we have a schedule. It’s a _real_ schedule too, like a piece of paper that tells you what you’re doing at what time, kinda like the ones they give you at school…mine is class after breakfast, so that’s what I do. I go to the study hall with Chris (who I eat with too) and work on the stuff my school sent for me to do. They sent me books and paperwork along with a list of other shit I’m supposed to be working on, so I do some work for an hour and a half. Then we have “group therapy”. 

Group consists of the 13-18 unit sitting in a circle with the therapist as the keystone, and we’re supposed to answer his questions and discuss stuff, introduce ourselves, you get the picture I’m sure.

On the first day, the therapist, Tony, introduced me to everyone. He was all, “Guys, this is Ryan. He’s fromDaytona BeachFlorida, he’s 16-years-old, and he’s a swimmer. So, let’s tell Ryan a little about yourselves.” Then he went around the circle and had everyone talk to me. I didn’t really pay attention.

Anyway, after the first day, group went on as normal. Obviously, I don’t say anything in group, I just listen to what everyone else says. They’re pretty boring actually, except for this one kid, Holden, the one who stares at his shoes and is kinda weird, but cool. His parents named him after the character in that book, The Catcher in the Rye I think it is, or something like that. It was assigned to us in 9th grade English, so it’s been groups since I’ve actually read it (there was a movie about it, ‘Chasing Holden’ and it was REALLY good). I wanna ask him if his middle name is really ‘Caulfield’ but that would involve talking, and I’m not feeling that at the moment and I just…can’t (I guess I could write it but I don’t wanna do that either).

So I half-listen and look out the window. There’s always the same bird there, perched on the branch right outside. I watch it the whole time, except when Tony asks if I have anything to say. Then I glance at him and shake my head, because I don’t, and go back to watching the bird do whatever it happens to be doing at the moment. He, Tony, just sighs heavily and moves onto Chris, who’s next to me, like always. I guess he’s as close to a friend in here as I’m gonna get, which is totally fine with me. I’m hoping they let me out early, I don’t wanna be friends with crazy people, and I don’t need to be really. I’ve got my own friends outside of this place. And besides, I’ve got enough shit in my perfectly peachy life.

Which is part of the issue…or maybe it’s the _whole_ problem; I don’t feel like I deserve to be unhappy. I wasn’t molested, my parents don’t beat me, they don’t treat me like shit or lock me up for hours (unless it’s for training, then I’m locked into the pool). My siblings aren’t particularly mean to me (I have two older sisters and two younger brothers), I make decent grades in school, I’m not bullied, I have friends, I swim for the school’s Aquatic team which does have pressure but hey, it’s just a competition, no big deal. We aren’t broke but upper middle class I guess, almost a little rich. We don’t live in the slums, we have a nice big house. I even have my own car, a tricked out Escalade that my parents got me for my 16 th birthday because I got my permit and a 32 gig iPhone 3GS. I have a decent life, a damn good one compared to some of the crazies and some of the people from school. I should be grateful and perfectly, completely, and totally happy, but I’m _not_.

I don’t know why, but I’m just…NOT. I can’t even justify it, let alone explain it; it’s just the way it is. And I feel kinda stupid for it, like I’m this ungrateful whiny bratty rich kid just looking for a reason to be pissy about something or a reason for people to feel bad for me and wanna do shit for me. Really, I’m not and I know it. People think I’m just doing it for attention or that I’m making up my feelings but really, does anyone wanna be miserable all the time? I can’t help the way I feel, but I wish I could. I wouldn’t be unhappy if I could help it, but I can’t…and at the end of the day, I still feel stupid when my head isn’t totally consumed with all these negative thoughts about myself which makes me sound totally self-centered and narcissistic when I’m really not that either. I don’t know WHAT I am, or what I’m supposed to be and I still feel stupid for that too. Whatever, I don’t even know.

Anyways, after group it’s back to class for me, so I work in study hall until it’s time for lunch. The bell sounds and I go to the dining room and eat with Chris. Well, pick mostly. I haven’t been very hungry lately, probably because of all the drugs they’re giving me (a lot of them are appetite suppressants as a side effect I found out). They check your tray when you’re done and sign it off, especially if you’ve got food issues, which I don’t. I love food, I’m half-Cuban. How many Cuban’s do you know with eating disorders? Not many, trust me. And that’s not being racist or generalizing, it’s true. Psych 101 if you don’t believe me (there was a study done on different ethnicities and the probability of ED’s). Sometimes, especially if you’ve got food issues, they tell you that you can’t leave yet until you eat more. They don’t bother saying it to me because they know I won’t eat it.

When the bell sounds again, I go back to the study hall and work until it’s time for me to meet with Why Man. I do, I go because they make me, but I don’t say anything. I sit there for an hour and stare at the drawings on his walls and the cool toys and stuff he has, but I stay quiet and I don’t play with any of the stuff, I just sit. After an hour he sighs and says, “That’s all we have time for today,” and I get up and wait for my escort outside.

That’s another thing about this place. You have to be escorted everywhere. They work on a level system. Level One’s have to be escorted everywhere. Level Two’s have a little more freedom, but not much. Like they can go to therapy by themselves and to the game or TV room or the study hall, and their schedule’s are more flexible, like they can spend time alone in their rooms, but that’s it. Level Three’s can go outside by themselves and around the campus and they can hang out in their room during study hall. Level Four’s can go to the bathrooms and everywhere by themselves. They just have to check in with the nurses and let them know where they’re going. You can’t even pee in peace here! It’s really crazy, that’s what it is. This place will MAKE you crazy, if you’re not already, which I’m not. I just might be by the time I get out, Jebus.

So I wait outside for Chris to come and get me. He’s a level two, so he can escort me around some places, but to go to the bathroom, we need a level four or tell the nurse that’s stationed outside (his name is Nurse Thorne and he’s definitely a thorn in my ass), so we always go with Holden since he’s pretty cool and doesn’t try to make me talk, just watches his shoes as we walk. I stand there, staring at the wall across from me until Chris tugs on my shirt sleeve and we walk to the game room because I have free time now and I don’t need to work on my homework until later. He asks if I wanna play a game with him and I shrug then nod and we play a game of rummy since there’s a deck of cards. There’s nothing to bet so it’s a little boring, but that’s ok, I have fun, as much as I’m gonna have here anyway.

The bell sounds again and it’s time for dinner, the same routine. Go in, get your food, sit, eat/pick, take the tray to be signed off, leave.

After dinner we sit in the TV room. Every night someone gets the remote and gets to watch whatever they want for a few hours. Lucky we have digital cable so there’s lots of channels to choose from. So we sit and look at whatever Holden’s chosen to watch. Turns out it’s ‘The Universe’ then ‘Clash of the Gods’ and finally ‘Dr. G Medical Examiner’. I’m not really watching though, I’m just sitting there on the couch between Chris and Holden, staring blankly at the screen. I’m totally zoned out and in my own little world. But it’s ok; they know me there which is probably a problem in and of itself.

After TV, it’s more study hall. We all do more homework and tests and stuff, whatever our school sends. After that it’s pill time. We all line up and they give us our meds. I look at my cup and realize the blue Pez pill is gone. I think it makes me sleep or keeps me up, I’m not sure. All I know is I can tell I won’t be feeling too hot seeing as I’ve been on it since I got here I think, at least the last two days. All the other kids still have theirs, so maybe it just proves I’m normal. After they give us our nightly dose of drugs, it’s lights out and everyone has to go to bed. I don’t like going to bed at 11, but whatever. I’m used to being up way later than that. But I shuffle off to my room. Holden and Chris room together next door to me and they escort me to my room first. I don’t have a roommate, and I like that. I don’t really want one. I just climb into my bed and stare at the ceiling until I doze off.

But tonight’s different. I hear the ambulance before I see the lights flashing and I wonder if something’s wrong with someone in one of the wards. There’s commotion outside in the hall, but I don’t get up, I just lay there and figure I’ll hear about it tomorrow, so I turn over and try to fall back asleep. Then Ruby opens my door and comes over to my bed. I like her, she’s nice. She calls me baby all the time. She looks down at me then turns the lamp on the bedside table on and shakes me.

“Baby, you sleepin?”

I just shake my head.

“C’mon, get up, honey.”

I look at her but I get up. She leads me out in the hall (where I see Chris and Holden looking out of their door) and down to the front room of our cottage where they’re carrying a boy in on a stretcher.

“His name is Michael, he’ll be your roommate, ok baby?”

I nod and look at him. He looks out of it, like maybe they gave him that Thorazine shit too. I want to ask Ruby, but I know it won’t come out, so I just watch as they take him down to my room and settle him in the other bed. He just lays there, completely still. I get back into my bed and Ruby gives me a butterscotch candy. I love those. I smile, take it, and pop it in my mouth, then I lay down and watch the other boy sleep. She leaves, closing the door behind her, and I just stare.

I don’t know when I doze off, but when I wake up, he’s still asleep. I wonder if that’s what I was like when I got here too. When my voice works, I’ll ask Chris. I don’t get up, I just lay there looking at him. He has on a long sleeve shirt, but I can see the gauze poking out from under one sleeve. I stare at that for a while.

When the bell sounds for breakfast, I still don’t get up. I keep staring at him. Nurse Smiley comes to tell me I have to go to breakfast but I don’t move. She tells me again and I still don’t move. I don’t even look at her, just keep staring at him. She says if I don’t cooperate she’ll have to give me a dose of medicine. I still don’t move. She says, “I’ll just get the doctor,” but I don’t react to that either. I’m drawn to him and I don’t know why. They bring the doctor in and he tries to get me to go to breakfast, but I shake my head. Finally he says it’s okay for me to stay there. So I do. I don’t do homework, I don’t go to group or lunch or my private session. I even skip dinner and TV. I just lay there, staring at him.

I doze off and when I wake up, he’s staring back at me. He’s got big pretty brown eyes with a sad little look in them. I wave my hand slightly and he waves back. Something in the way he does it lets me know he doesn’t talk either, and I get that. I offer him a small smile and then we both close our eyes, drifting off together.

When the bell sounds the next morning, I wait to see if he gets up, which he does. He’s a little sluggish but that’s the drugs. Nurse Smiley comes in to tell us to come to breakfast and we both nod. I just throw on a hoodie over my t-shirt and so does he. We go to breakfast looking a hot mess, but that’s ok. We’ve both got on sweats and a hoodie, with sneakers and our hair isn’t done. We take our food and sit next to each other, neither of us really eat though, he just nibbles at bits of the breakfast. Chris sits on my other side and introduces everyone, informing him he’ll hear more at group. He just nods and goes back to nibbling. Chris looks at me and smiles.

“Your lions mane isn’t tame today S.T.,” he grins.

I roll my eyes at him and go back to watching Michael. I pull out my schedule and lay it on the table for him to see and he looks at it, then pulls out his own. We have the same schedule and for some reason, that makes me happy. He doesn’t see Why Man he sees Dr. Supersad who is DING DING DING you guessed it, Nurse Supersad’s husband. Pat yourself on the back for that one. I smile at him and he smiles back. Then the bell rings and we take our trays to be signed off and head to study hall. We sit next to each other and work.

Then we go to group. Tony introduces Michael to the group and says he’s from Baltimore, he’s 15-years-old and a swimmer which I perk up a little for. I don’t wanna seem _eager_ about it or anything, but it’s something we share and I like that. Michael’s next to me and discreetly pokes me on the thigh, looking at me from the corner of his eye. I know what he’s asking. I nod slightly. He understands what I’m saying. He understands I’m a swimmer too.

Then Tony clears this throat and I know it’s time for the topic of the day. In group we have topics to discuss. Today’s topic is honesty. I wanna snort but I don’t. Michael rolls his eyes and I smile. Honesty? Really? I mean, I’ll take Jack Nicholson’s line: “You can’t HANDLE the truth.” And that’s the truth. If a girl asks if her dress makes her butt look big, you say “No, it looks fine” even if her ass looks like a cow because we know she wouldn’t appreciate the truth that the dress isn’t doing anything for her. It’s the way our society works. The other kids don’t seem to agree but I could give a shit. Honestly.

We both stay quiet and look at the bird then get into a poking match. Tony interrupts to ask if I have anything to say. I shake my head. Next he asks Michael and he shakes his too. Then we resume our poking match as he moves onto Chris. Tony looks pleased with himself and I wonder why. It’s not like we talked or anything but whatever, I don’t really care. When group is over we go back to study hall.

I’m sitting beside him, totally quiet, working on some stupid algebra problems and he’s doing English. Chris and Holden are huddled, whispering. Most of the kids are talking. That’s when it hits me. I look at Michael and decide I wanna know more about him, I wanna talk to him and I’m scared to reach out, I’ll admit that. Putting yourself out there means you’re taking a risk of being burned and I don’t want that. I don’t wanna reach out and get rejected, I mean, who _does_? But he makes the first move. He pulls out one of those flexi binders and opens it up to blank paper. He writes ‘I’m Michael Phelps’ and slides the notebook to me. I write, ‘I’m Ryan Lochte’ and pass it back. Now we can talk.

‘Why are you here?’

‘Same as you I think. I wasn’t trying to die though, just kill the bad stuff.’

“Same here. I just didn’t like a part of me.’

I smile and write ‘same.’ He smiles back.

‘I brought my phone…’

‘so did I’

‘wanna text?’

‘sounds like a plan.’

You’re not supposed to have cell phones or iPods, but they don’t enforce it, just say if it’s stolen it’s your business. So I write my number down for him and he pulls out his iPhone and puts my number in then writes his down. I do the same, programming his number in my phone. He smiles again and closes the notebook which is good since we have work to do. I figure we’ll pick up the convo later.

We both work on our homework until it’s lunch time. We get our “nutritionally balanced meal” and sit together. I haven’t abandoned Chris. He sits on the other side of me with Holden on his right. Michael pulls out a smaller notebook and sets it on the table between us.

‘We have free time later…’

‘yeah’

‘wanna play a game with me?’

‘yeah. There’s cards.’

‘Poker?’

‘yeah, I love poker.’

‘Texas?’

‘perfect’

‘awesome’

‘oh wow, like totally freak me out, I mean right on…’

I don’t think he knows the rest and then he surprises me.

‘the torro’s sure are number one.’

We both smile at each other.

‘sisters?’ I write.

“Yeah, two older. They made me watch it.’

‘Same.’

He smiles at me again and puts the notebook away. We both pick at the lunch and wait for the bell to ring.

When it does, we go back to study hall. But Supersad is watching us too much for us to talk, so we actually do work. I get a lot done, finishing that stupid ass algebra that, despite what Val Kilmer says, won’t save my life since I’m never going to Mars.

Then we have to go to our counseling sessions. Since our shrink’s offices are in the same hall, Chris escorts us both down. We wave and turn to knock on the doors. I see him look back at me and smile before he disappears into his shrink’s office and that makes me smile. Which Why Man notices when I open his door.

“Well, you look cheerful Ryan,” he says as I close the door behind me. “Wanna tell me what’s made you so happy today?”

I shake my head and sit in the leather armchair that groans like the cow it once was every time I move.

“Why not?”

I shrug. He sighs.

“You know Ryan,” he starts and his tone is different than before. He sounds like a dad lecturing his kid, but he doesn’t look like he’s old enough to be anyone’s dad. He looks down his nose at me, his glasses slipping a little and says, “You should use your time here wisely. We’re here to help you and we can’t help if you won’t tell us what’s wrong. Why won’t you talk?”

I just look at him. If I don’t talk, why would I tell him why I don’t talk? He’s retarded obviously. Then he reaches over to his desk and grabs a pad and pencil, like the ones he’s holding, and hands them to me.

“Tell me why you don’t talk,” he says as he taps his pencil against the pad. It sounds like a woodpecker and after about five minutes of the tapping I write something on the pad and pass it over to him. He looks pleased until he reads what I wrote.

‘If you don’t stop tapping your pencil, I’m gonna stab you with mine’

He sets the pad aside and sighs. But he does stop tapping. One point for me.

I do nothing the rest of the time, just stare at him and he finally sighs and says I can go.

I quickly leave and see Michael’s waiting. I smile and stand beside him until Chris comes to lead us to the game room. We find a table and get the cards. Chris asks if he and Holden can join and I look to Michael. He looks at me and we both nod slightly, then I nod to Chris.

“Thanks S.T.”

I nod and shuffle the cards before letting Michael cut them, then I deal.

We play cards, alternating between poker and rummy until it’s dinner time. We get up and go pick at our food.

After dinner we go to the TV room and they let Michael pick since he’s new and all. He puts it on the Discovery Channel since Planet Earth is playing. We sit in silence and watch TV until we have to go back to the study hall and work for a while. Then it’s pill time. He still has his Pez pill and we all take ours with apple juice.

Then we go to our rooms and go to bed. Well, we’re supposed to go to bed. Me and Michael stay awake for a while texting and eventually we fall asleep. We wake up with out phones in our hands.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People just don’t understand Ryan and the way his mind works…and he’s locked in a Psych Ward because of it, though, according to him, he’s completely sane. But along comes Michael and he gets Ryan and that’s all that matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately I don’t own the boys. This is completely AU which is abnormal for me. Style borrowed from three books I love: Skin Game, Cut, and Suicide Notes just in case you noticed. No copyright infringement intended. The descriptions of people and/or disorders is not meant to be derogatory or offensive, trust me. Also, this one is kinda personal for me, so if you’re gonna tear it apart, don’t do it in the comments ok? Thanks.

Everyday is pretty much the same. We have the same routine, it doesn’t vary much. Me and Michael ‘talk’ a lot and we get to know each other pretty well. We find out that we like the same kind of music and cars, that we’re practically into all the same stuff and we hit it off really well. We even compare split times and competition wins. I kinda start thinking this is okay, the days being boring and all.

But day 8 kinda throws me for a loop.

First off, in group, instead of a topic, Tony has an exercise for us to do. He pairs us off and I get Michael, Chris gets Holden. The four girls are paired off together. Tony wants us, for five minutes apiece; act out what we’re feeling inside at the moment. Michael goes first. He rolls up his sleeve (I can see his scars and bandages) and lays his index finger against his arm and makes a motion that looks like he’s cutting. Then he sits up and pretends to be trapped then makes the cutting motion again. His next move is to pretend to be dead and then pissed off.

I get it, I know how he feels. When his five minutes are up it’s my turn. I mimic everything he does. When it’s all over, Tony wants us to talk to each other about what our partners did. Me and Michael don’t talk but look at each other. It’s not a staring contest but a looking contest which are totally different. Staring doesn’t really have a purpose, but when you’re looking at something it does. He looks me straight in the eye the whole time, almost like he’s trying to figure something out, like he’s _looking_ at me, really _seeing_ me. After a bit he looks satisfied and pulls his sleeve back down.

We don’t ‘talk’ about it at all. It’s a quiet understanding that we identify with each other and we go about our day like nothing’s changed. Except it has. I know, somehow, that he knows me, really _knows_. And it scares and excites me.

Then, I’m actually excited for lunch because today is meatloaf and whoever makes it should cook ALL the food. The meatloaf looks and tastes like REAL meat and the potatoes are fresh and buttery. Ugh, I love that.

So my day is going fairly well when I walk into Why Man’s office and…dun dun duh…my _parents_ are sitting on the couch. I must look kinda shocked because my mom says, “Isn’t this a nice surprise?”

I don’t say anything (of course), I don’t even move. It both shocks me and pisses me off. I’m shocked because they’re here, I’m pissed because I wasn’t told. They should tell you shit like that, like “Oh, hey, by the way, your parents will be here today.” But they didn’t, they didn’t tell me shit.

Why Man says to come in and have a seat. Now I must look pissed because he clears his throat a little uncomfortably. I sit down in the cow chair and look at my parents. I don’t know what they know, so I’m not sure if they know I don’t talk.

My dad says hi, but he’s not happy to be there, I can tell. My mom tries to smile and I see her glance at my wrists. I’m glad I wore long sleeves today. I tuck my wrists between my knees and just look at them. It’s obvious they don’t know I stopped talking.

“Hi honey,” My mom says and I nod. My dad isn’t happy about that.

“Your mother spoke to you, say hi.”

For the first time, I look to Why Man for help. He clears his throat and turns to my parents.

“Ryan…well we’re not sure what’s caused it yet, but Ryan can’t talk.”

“Sure he can,” my dad says, looking at me. “He’s a regular wiseass and a pain-in-the-ass.”

“No Mr. Lochte. Ever since the…” he pauses. “Ever since the incident—“

“You mean when he slit his wrists, it’s ok to say it.”

I wince a little at hearing that because the way he says it makes it sound…dirty and I dunno, it just sounds…I don’t even know. My mom isn’t happy and she turns to my dad and gives him _the look_ which is her nonverbal way of saying “shut the fuck up”. He does.

“As I was saying,” Why Man says, “Since the incident, Ryan has been unable to talk. Sometimes trauma, even self-inflicted trauma, can cause a person to become mute. We’re not sure if he will talk again. Medically, there’s nothing preventing him from speaking, but something in his mind, something uncontrollable to him, is causing him to become voiceless. We are working very hard with him to see if we can figure out the block and undo it.”

My dad scoffs and looks over at Why Man. “So what you’re telling us,” he says, looking dead at me now, “Is that because he decided to slit his wrists he can’t talk, but it’s not his fault. Sounds like his damn fault to me.”

Now, let me say, my dad is tough. He loves me and like I said, they don’t beat me or anything, but my dad is a hard guy. He’s not crazy or anything, but he likes things to go his way. He doesn’t give out hugs unless we’ve won a meet and he’s not big on emotion which is fine. I’m not much of a hugger anyway. Even my best fried, Kyle, doesn’t hug me. I think I have an invisible ‘CAUTION: DO NOT HUG, BACK UP, GIVE ME 50 FT.’ sign on me because the only person who hugs me is my mom, and sometimes my little brotherDevon.

Why Man clears his throat again and looks at my mom. “I think it would be wise for you two to find a place up here while Ryan continues his recovery. I would like you to see him once a week.”

My mouth drops open about the same time my dad says, “You’re his shrink, not his parent. We have JOBS and other kids. We have swim practices to teach and other families who depend on us. We can’t just MOVE here because he did something stupid.”

My mom gives _the look_ again and says, “Steve…” very calmly, like she might just stab him or something and my dad stops talking. She looks at Why Man and says, “You think we should see him once a week?”

“Yes. I think it would aid in his recovery.”

I’m shaking my head no because really, I don’t need to see them EVERY week, I mean c’mon, damn.

“Then we’ll make a point of coming up.”

“And where the hell are we supposed to get the money too—“

“Steve…” she says again in the voice that’s clearly saying ‘shut the fuck up’, “We’ll figure it out.” My dad grunts and looks out the window and my mom smiles at me. “We’ll see you next week, ok?”

I nod.

“Think he’ll TALK by then?” My dad asks but he’s looking at me.

“Only time will tell.”

“I’m sure.”

My mom gives me a hug and my dad just looks at me before they leave. Why Man waits until they’re gone before he hands me the pad and pencil.

“What did you think of today? Was it nice seeing you parents?”

I write down something on the pad and hand it to him, then stand up to leave. Our time is up.

He looks down to read it. ‘You’re an asshole, you should’ve warned me. Oh, and by the way, you need a haircut.’

I wait until he’s done reading before I leave. I can’t help but smirk as I see him pat his hair and I close the door harder than necessary.

Great, now I have to see my parents EVERY week. _Goddamn_.

So as you imagine, I’m pretty damn pissed off the rest of the day, but I still make time to ‘talk’ to Michael. I tell him about my parents and he tells me he’s sorry, that his mom came up too and left unhappy. I say I’m sorry too and we text the rest of the night.

On the upside, other than talking to Michael, the next time I see Why Man, he’s cut his hair. Two points for me.

  
Day 15 is really interesting. It’s the day my bandages come off.

Nurse Smiley takes me into the little clinic they have after breakfast and unwraps my wrists. I’m kinda surprised to see the stitches because I didn’t know they were there. She takes little scissors and snips the stitches, then pulls them out. That hurts a little, but not much. When I leave the room, I keep looking at my wrists and the scars there. I don’t really care if people know I did what I did, there’s no doubt about it. And ironically, I don’t really mind the scars. They’re kinda like battle wounds. I was fighting a battle and I bear the scars to prove it.

When I get to study hall, I sit down beside Michael to work on more math. I pick up my pencil to start a problem and that’s when Michael looks over and stops, mid-sentence of the paper he’s working on, and looks at my wrist. At first, I think maybe he didn’t realize what I had done but he saw the bandages so I know he knows. I’m not sure what he’s doing, but then he puts his pencil down and reaches over to me. He looks up, like he’s asking permission, and I nod. He runs a finger over the scar. It doesn’t hurt, so I don’t mind. He smiles up at me and then goes back to working. I smile and put my head down.

It’s also the first day Matty talks. Matty and me are alone on the couch in the TV room. You’re allowed in there sometimes between everything. Then she looks at my wrist and points. Out of nowhere she says, “frex.” I’m totally confused, then she points to my wrist again and touches the spot over her heart and says “frex” again. She keeps repeating it over and over and points to my wrist again, then touches her heart. Her face kinda screws up and she says, “frex frex” and I get it. She means hurt. My wrist hurt like her hearts hurts. I nod and she says it again. I smile at her and pat her bunny’s ears.

No one else says anything about my scars. Everyone just kinda ignores them, like they’re the elephant in the room no one’s supposed to talk about. I ignore them for the most part too. They’re a part of me, like my ear or something, so it’s just there.

That is, until I go to my session. Today’s the day my parents come. I forget and wear short sleeves.

I walk in and stop. My mom smiles, until she spots my hand on the doorknob, my wrist turned facing her. She makes a little sound, almost like if she couldn’t see the scars, it wasn’t real.

I go and sit down, turning my hands in my lap so my parents can’t see them. I’m not ashamed, but they seem weirded out.

“How does that make you feel?” Why Man asks my mom, “Seeing his scars?”

“I don’t like it,” she says.

My dad, in typical form, says, “Can’t he cover them? Or is there a way to make them fade? He can’t swim with those.”

I don’t react to that, just look out the window. He’s all about swimming. It’s his life. He was a swimmer, he coaches it, he coaches me. Swimming is everything. And now he thinks I can’t swim with my scars. I’ll be damned.

I keep staring out the window. I know they’re talking, but after a while it sounds like jet planes taking off. I can’t hear what they’re saying, just the roaring of engines in my ears. Then suddenly I hear my mom calling my name and the jet planes stop.

I look at her and she smiles softly. “Next week, ok?”

I nod.

My dad doesn’t say anything as they leave. I wait until they’re gone before I leave. I don’t give Why Man a chance to ask me anything.

  
Day 18 is when Michael’s bandages come off. His scars almost look like mine and we smile at each other over them.

We compare them, like all boys do, and we point and ‘talk’ about them. It’s fun because it’s us.

It’s also the first day we get closer...

We both get up in the middle of the night and settle on the couch in the TV room. We’re sitting there watching “The Devil’s Advocate” and suddenly he reaches out and takes my hand. At first I think it’s because he’s scared, but deep down I know he isn’t, I can feel it in the tenderness of the grip. I don’t really know what to do, so I don’t so anything. He starts rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb and scoots closer to me.

I don’t move away, I let him. And I realize that this is what I want. I wanna be close to him, I want to be as close as we can. Okay, so it’s not this great sudden epiphany. I’ve kinda known I wanna be close to him. But it’s just different this time, that’s all.

He scoots over until we’re hip to hip and then he lifts my hand, placing a soft kiss to my scar. My eyes close, and as cheesy as it sounds, I feel really close to him like that. He puts my hand down and picks up the other. He nuzzles the scar there before he kisses it softly. I exhale slowly. It seems like time stops because he kisses my wrists again. My eyes stay closed and I just sit there, letting him kiss me like that. Yeah, okay, that’s sappy, but whatever, that’s how it is.

Suddenly, he sets my hands in my lap and gets up, heading back to our room. Ruby is sitting out there, reading a book, but she looks up when I follow him and smiles at me. I wave to her and she waves me over. She slips two butterscotch candies into my hand when I get there and I hug her. I like Ruby a lot. I’ll miss her when I leave. She pats my back and I head to my room, closing the door behind me.

Michael’s waiting and, okay, you can gag, but he’s standing there in the moonlight looking cute and I can’t help it, I go over and kiss him. I don’t know how kisses are supposed to go, as in, I know how to kiss, but this is different. I actually like Michael. I don’t know what to do with my hands really and he seems to not know either. But we both have the same idea because his hands land on my shoulders and mine on his hips.

I know if we get caught, we’re in trouble, but it doesn’t matter. Michael wraps his arms around my neck and my arms go around his waist, which brings our bodies flush together, and we just stand there kissing. It doesn’t lead anywhere else. It’s not like I jump into bed with him or something, but we kiss for a long time, until we hear footsteps. We’re not ready to stop, I can tell by the way we both lean back in after they disappear, but I also know it’s a close call.

He stops first, nibbling my bottom lip before he pulls away and glances at the door. I nod and we kiss again, just a quick one. I hand him one of the candies and he kisses me one last time before we get into our beds. We watch each other doze off.

  
Day 20 is the first day I talk.

Matty wakes us up in the middle of the night by screaming at the top of her lungs. Me and Michael run out and we see Chris and Holden are looking down the girls hall. I step out a little more and see her standing in the girls hall screaming in front of someone’s room.

Ruby runs down and stops, looking into the room, then she comes back saying, “oh lord, oh lord,” so I know something bad is going on. Some of the orderlies come and tell us all to go back to our rooms. But I stay by the door, I wanna see Matty. She’s still screaming. Ruby picks her up and carries her. She smiles at me before shutting my door. I hear footsteps but I don’t know what’s going on. I open the door again because Matty has stopped screaming.

I don’t know what happened, I don’t know how, but I go over to Ruby. She looks at me and smiles as she rocks Matty, then the orderlies come and take her back to her room.

I stand there for a long time before I hear myself say, “Is she gonna be ok?” My voice is hoarse and it sounds bad. Like REALLY bad, like scary, horror movie bad.

Ruby blinks. “What’d you say, baby?”

“Is she gonna be ok?”

“I-I don’t know, I don’t.”

I nod and go back to my room. My throat hurts really bad and I wanna sleep but I see Michael’s sitting up in bed. He pulls his phone out and I shake me head. He gets a sad look on his face and then I say, “Hi.”

He looks shocked.

“Hi Michael,” I say. “I’m Ryan.”

He blinks and smiles at me, but he doesn’t talk, just picks up his phone and texts me ‘will you talk to me all the time?’

I smile back and say, “Sure Mike, anytime.”

He stands up and walks over to my bed, sitting down beside me. He leans in first this time and kisses me softly. Since my voice works I make a small sound and he smiles, kissing me again. We sit and kiss for awhile, his hand coming to rest on my knee, mine on his thigh. Eventually we stop, only because it’s almost time for checks. He kisses me one last time, a little different than last time. It almost feels like a promise. Then he gets up and goes back to his own bed.

We lay looking at each other for a while. My throat still hurts, but he makes me not think about it. Michael smiles and closes his eyes. Somehow his smile makes my throat hurt less.

  
The next day, no one thinks anything is different. I don’t talk to them. Talking makes me tired, so I don’t.

In group they award me with a Level Two status and Tony asks if I wanna say anything about it or about what happened the night before. I shake my head and Michael smiles.

I don’t even talk when I go to my session and Why Man says he heard I spoke. I simply shrug and stare out the window.

I do find out what happened the night before though. Ruby tells me when she comes on for her shit, even though he’s not supposed to. The girl with the imaginary friend who hated me, Sadie, she killed herself. I guess she had been hoarding her pills and then took them all at once. No one knows why, she didn’t leave anything in her note except that she hoped her imaginary friend, Alice, would miss her.

I also find out why Matty doesn’t talk. Her dad killed her mom with a shotgun. He shot her twice, once in the stomach, once in the head, then he killed himself. Matty, apparently, saw it all. Her aunt kept calling the house but after three days with no answer she went over to check on everything Matty was sitting on the kitchen floor between the two bodies, holding her stuffed Eeyore.

And I thought _I_ had issues, damn.

I don’t talk all day except that night when I’m in my room with Michael and he texts ‘talk to me’

“Sure,” I say, “What should we talk about?”

He rolls towards me and shrugs. I get it, he just wants to hear me talk.

I motion him over and he gets on my bed, facing me. “Ok,” I say, “Have you ever heard the True Story of the Three Little Pigs?” he shakes his head and I recite the story from memory because I love the book.

  
Day 22, my parents come again.

I’m still not talking to anyone except Michael because it really does tire me out. It takes more effort to talk than it does to be quiet, which is a huge change for me. I used to be a big talker, and a smart ass, as if you couldn’t tell.

But when I get there, Why Man is telling them I spoke, which pisses me off. I’m not ready to talk to them.

My mom looks all excited and my dad just looks irritated.

“Well talk,” he says when I sit down in the cow chair and I shake my head.

“I heard you talked, so say hi to your mom.” I shake my head again, I’m already tired today, talking is the last thing I wanna do.

“It’s ok baby, you don’t have too,” she says and I nod. I can’t right now, it’s too much. I don’t really feel bad though, I’m just not ready.

So Why Man and my parents talk for a while, but I don’t listen. I hear the jet planes again.

When they leave, Why Man says, “Why didn’t you talk to your parents?”

I breathe in deeply and go to the door.

“I’m not ready,” I say, and close the door behind me.

  
Day 25 is the first day Michael talks. First night I should say.

I’ve been talking a little more, trying to get back into the swing of it.

We’re sitting on my bed looking over some flashcards for our Algebra test.

I’m quizzing him, he’s been writing the answerers on a piece of paper.

I hold up a card that says, “x + 17=2x-2” so he works it out on the paper and instead of writing it out says, “X=19?”

I’m so shocked I drop the card.

Michael smiles softly and says, “I’m Michael.”

Once I come out of my shock I smile back and say, “Nice to meet you Michael, I’m Ryan.”

Michael holds out his hand to me and I shake it. He smiles wide then bites his lip and I get it. Kissing was easy when we didn’t have to talk, now we feel like we have to and I shake my head.

“We don’t have to talk to kiss,” I tell him and he smiles.

“Good, I’m still getting used to this again.”

I nod. “Me too…talking is weird now.”

“Yeah, but not to you.”

I smile, then lean in and kiss him, but it’s automatically different. Not in a bad way, but this time his mouth opens under mine. I’m not expecting it really, especially when he licks my bottom lip, but I open my mouth for him and he brings his hand up to my cheek as he slides his tongue into my mouth.

I can’t help it when I moan, which completely surprises me. I don’t mean to, it just comes out, but he obviously doesn’t think it’s bad because he pushes the algebra stuff out the way and rises to his knees, coming closer, and kisses me again.

For the record, I haven’t had my cherry popped, duh, and I’m not ashamed of it. I know they say something like 77% of teenagers have sex before they’re 17, but I’m happy to say I’m not a part of those statistics…yet. I was always the guy to smirk in the locker room while my friends talked about what girl, or guy, the picked up over the weekend, how their girlfriend or boyfriend finally gave it up, or who they hooked up with and what party, but never say anything myself. I always said I didn’t kiss and tell because seriously, it’s no ones business. And besides, I’ve never met anyone I’d wanna do that with. But right here with Michael, I wouldn’t mind. It’s weird, but I trust him more than anyone else I’ve ever met, more than my best friend. I don’t know why, it’s just something between us I can’t explain.

This is the first time his hands travel. They slip under my shirt and over my stomach and I don’t care how stupid it sounds but I really feel like I might implode. He stops kissing me which is good because I couldn’t breathe, and starts kissing my neck as his hands move up my sides. I wanna ask where this is going, if he plans on taking it where I think he does, but I don’t. Like I said, I trust him, and if that’s where he takes it, then that’s where it goes.

It feels strange, to trust another person so completely, but I do. I bite my lip and slide my hands under the back of his shirt and he exhales against my neck. He slides his hands down my sides and over my hips and I stop biting my lip.

“Have you…have you done this before?” I feel stupid for asking it. I trust him, I just wanna know. As crazy as it sounds, this is special for me. My parents don’t talk about sex, it’s not something we discuss. I mean sure, we make jokes about it and if someone makes a dirty joke in school, I get it, I’m not totally naive. But that isn’t the point. The point is, for me, it’s special or at least I want it to be. Mostly girls are the ones who say that kinda shit, but I actually mean it. I wouldn’t do this with just anybody and that’s what I’m getting at, is it as special for him?

He pulls away from my neck and looks me in the eyes. There’s nothing but truth in them when he says, “No. Honestly I haven’t I just…I’m just going with the feeling. You want me to stop?” Then he bites his lip as he waits.

“No…” I shake my head and lean up to kiss him again.

We end up making out all night.

  
Day 29 is the day the make Michael a Level Two.

It’s also the next time my parents come. They bring my brotherDevon. Why Man says we can go in the next room if we want. Devon immediately pulls me in there and hugs me tight. I smile and hug him back.

“So, you talkin’ yet?” He asks.

“Some,” I say.

“Good. I can’t even imagine you being quiet.”

I snort at him.

He starts telling me about all the stuff he’s been up to and what Brandon’s been doing and our sisters, then we’re quiet for a while.

Suddenly I bite my lip. “Has uhm…has Kyle called?”

Devon   
stops in the middle of sitting, then sits heavily. “Not really.”

“Has he…you know, come by…or anything…?” I try to make it sound casual, but it isn’t.

“I’ve…y’know, I’ve seen him around a bit.”

I close my eyes. “So he hasn’t.”

“Well…”

“Does he know?”

“Yeah.”

I open my eyes again and look away, out the window. “How did he find out?”

“Well…”Devon bites his lip. “I told him.”

“When, how?”

“Two days after it happened, at the mall.”

“The mall?”

“He was shopping with Jason.”

I close my eyes again. “What’d you tell him?”

“That you…had tried to kill yourself.”

“What’d he say?”

“He just nodded. It was like he knew already.”

“He didn’t say anything?”

“No, just nodded.”

I exhale harshly.

“Ry, c’mon, don’t be upset.”

“He’s my best friend. How can I not be upset?” I ask.

“Well…I’m just sayin’ y’know? We love you, we got your back. Just—“

“Don’t even say forget about him.”

Devon   
falls quiet and I cross my arms.

I sigh heavily and walk over to the window. There’s no wire in these. I look down and stay quiet for a while before I sigh again. “What does everyone in school think happened?”

“I heard you had mono, cancer, and that you were pregnant.”

“Pregnant?!”

“Yeah, not quite sure how that one got started, but I think someone forgot you’re a boy.”

“Nice. I’ll go back to school with everyone expecting to see my kid that I miraculously had since I forgot to tell them I’m really a girl.” I can’t help but laugh at that.

Devon   
laughs too. “Well, I think everyone’s sticking with Mono…” then he bites his lip and looks at me. “Do you care? I mean, y’know…if people know that you tried…well, y’know.”

“No, not really. It’s not their business.”

Devon nods and is about to say something else when the door opens and Why Man asks us to come in.

I sit in the cow chair, Devon sits next to my mom.

“Hi mom, hi dad,” I say and my mom lights up. My dad still looks irritated. Probably because he doesn’t wanna be visiting me in the loony bin.

Why Man is about to say something, but my dad cuts in.

“Kyle hasn’t called yet.” It’s almost like he’s read my mind. “Did you two fight?”

Of course, Why Man jumps on it like a tiger on a Zebra’s ass. “Who’s Kyle?”

“No one,” I mutter and turn my feet together.

“Is he your friend? Your boyfriend?”

“His best friend,” My mom andDevon say together.

For the first time, I sink back in the cow chair with my arms crossed and close my eyes. Somehow, I’m hoping a hole will open up and I’ll be swallowed. It doesn’t work. It never does. I’ve been dealt a shitty hand, I want a new one.

“Does it upset you?”

I open my eyes to see Why Man looking at me. I don’t even think about my answer before I say it. “What the _fuck_ do you think?”

My parents looks like they’re about to blow a gasket. Why Man doesn’t look disturbed at all.

“I’m asking your opinion.”

“I don’t feel like giving it.”

“Why not?”

“Why don’t you drop it?”

“Why does it make you feel upset?”

“Can we PLEASE drop this?”

“Can’t you just answer the question?”

“Can’t you stop answering my questions with questions? It’s rude.”

“Well how about you answer my question and we’ll talk about it?”

I’m really giving him a look like I want to murder him. He stops asking questions. But like always, when I think we’re done, he drops another bomb on me.

“Why don’t you try explaining to your family why you tried to commit suicide?”

I don’t miss a beat. “I’d rather not. Our times up, can I go?”

He ignores me and turns to my family. “Devon, is there anything you’d like to say to your brother? To ask him?” I know what he’s doing and ain’t THAT a bitch, trying to use my little brother so I’ll tell them why. That won’t work.

Devon   
looks at me and his face goes very serious, but his eyes say he’s about to do something only I’ll get. “Yeah. Ryan…”

Everyone leans forward except me.

“Ry…next time you try to kill yourself, can I have your room?”

See, only I get this because I know that when we moved into our house, I got the second biggest room andDevon wanted it. We “fought” about it for three days and I ended up locking myself in there. Devon whined to my parents about it and they ended up getting him a playstation.

Anyway my parents are mad. My mom yellsDevon’s name while my dad leans over and smacks the back of his head. He starts laughing.

I just smile. “Sure. I’ll even do it in your room so they’ll have no choice.”

“Cool.”

“Like the fuckin arctic.”

My parents are PISSED when they leave,Devon is cracking up, and I’m just…there.

“So, why did you try to kill yourself?” Why Man asks after they’re gone.

I stand up and go for the door. “I’m a teenager, sometimes we get bored.” Then I walk out.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People just don’t understand Ryan and the way his mind works…and he’s locked in a Psych Ward because of it, though, according to him, he’s completely sane. But along comes Michael and he gets Ryan and that’s all that matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately I don’t own the boys. This is completely AU which is abnormal for me. Style borrowed from three books I love: Skin Game, Cut, and Suicide Notes just in case you noticed. No copyright infringement intended. The descriptions of people and/or disorders is not meant to be derogatory or offensive, trust me. Also, this one is kinda personal for me, so if you’re gonna tear it apart, don’t do it in the comments ok? Thanks.

Eventually, I know Why Man’s gonna ask why I did what I did again. I don’t like calling it “trying to kill myself.” It sounds like a murder gone wrong, only the murder was of you. It just sounds weird, I don’t like it. I did what I did, end of story. He’s gonna wanna know and I don’t plan on telling him, or anyone, except Michael, if he ever asks.

For the record, I just felt like it.

Off the record, a lot of shit went down.

It all started a long time ago. No really. I’ve never thought of myself as gay or straight. I assumed I liked girls, even went on a few dates. I’m only 16, and like I told you, no heavy action on my part.

But that all changed on a Monday in September last year. I was having a shitty day.

First off, it was a Monday, that’s bad enough. Second I was in Algebra, on a Monday. Third, I was hung over. I had gone to a party at Kyle’s house the night before and we were both fucked up.

So I was hung over, in Algebra class, on a Monday. How is that good? At ALL?

But the door opened in the middle of the teacher talking about exponents or something. When that happens we all know it’s the principal or a late kid. It was both, but we only saw the principal. A quiet groan went across the class. Then in stepped the student.

I swear to God my heart stopped (it’s ok to gag here). He was GORGEOUS.

The principal cleared his throat. “Everyone, this is Jason Aragon. You guys make him feel welcome and help him if he needs it.” He left.

My heart still hadn’t started beating again.

My teacher told him to take the empty desk…beside ME.

“Ryan, raise your hand.”

It shot up, I felt so embarrassed. Then he talked. WHY did he do THAT?

“It’s okay ma’am, I can find it.”

UGH, the accent…yeah, it was…yeah. I stopped breathing. Really, if you puke here, I understand.

He came over and sat beside me. Then he leaned over to see what chapter we were on.

“Hey, I’m Jason,” he smiled and held his hand out and I shook it.

“I’m Ryan,” I managed, I don’t know how because nothing in me was working.

My heart finally started beating again, but it skipped. Not only was it skipping because of Jason, but because I realized I suddenly had a crush…on a GUY.

I closed my eyes and tried to get my breathing to slow, and somehow I managed to sound normal after a while.

“Ryan? You help Jason if he needs it alright?” My teacher called out to me.

I nodded and looked over at him. He was smiling at me. I stopped breathing again.

We made a lunch date and I went over all the stuff I could for the classes we had in common and helped him on a regular basis.

To make a long story short, I fell hard for him. And he fell hard too…for Kyle. I was so jealous it literally made me sick.

At first, Kyle would invite me along on their dates because his sister said guys liked it when the person they were dating didn’t seem too eager and played it cool. So we’d go to the movies or get something to eat. All was pretty okay, except that I was in love with a guy…and that guy was my best friend’s boyfriend.

I could handle going on their dates because Jason paid equal attention to both me and Kyle, so it wasn’t a problem. I kinda looked forward to them. Then one night, Kyle called me up and literally started gushing over how he and Jason had gone on a date (WHAT?!) and Jason had kissed him. I almost threw up. But I told him that was great and I was so happy he’d found someone who really liked him.

I wasn’t, happy that is, for Kyle. Well, I was. I was happy he’d found someone, I wasn’t happy that it was Jason.

After that they started going on regular dates, without me, and they were obviously a couple in school: holding hands, kissing in the halls, making out in the stacks in the library, passing notes between classes. Pretty soon, I was replaced with Jason. Me and Kyle didn’t hang out hardly ever and the only times he called were to tell me about how great Jason was.

I wasn’t sure which sucked more: the fact that Jason and Kyle were dating or that suddenly my best friend was gone and I had been replaced with the guy I had fallen for. The school year dragged on for me and the longer it went on, the less I saw of Kyle. He even started skipping swim practices to spend more time with Jason.

But, when Kyle was having a pre-Christmas party, of course I was invited (I say ‘of course’ but he didn’t tell me directly, I found out from one of our mutual friends and had to call him and he said, “well DUH” so yeah…) and so was Jason. And since Kyle’s parents were out of town at an office Christmas party, there were lots of drinks. I had a few beers. a couple of Mike’s HARDER lemonade’s, and a little vodka. By the end of the night, I was sure I was gonna puke, so I went upstairs.

I leaned over the toilet and waited but nothing came up, so I stood and stayed there just in case. That’s when the door opened and in walked Jason. He smiled and went over to toilet since I was standing at the sink and proceeded to pee. I tried not to look at…IT, but I couldn’t help it. I quickly looked at the mirror until he bumped my hip.

“Gotta wash my hands, man,” he laughed and I went around him to the toilet again. He looked over at me and smiled, then stood up. That smile was a killer.

Then I realized he was staring at me with this really intense look on his face, looking in my eyes. He smiled softly and opened his mouth. “Hey, I need to ask you a really serious question.”

I stood there, not breathing, hoping, praying he’d ask me out. I knew he wouldn’t, but I wanted it SO bad, I had never wanted anything that bad in my life. It was like I was in a bubble of hope, a warm fuzzy dream and he would say, ‘you know, all this time I’ve really wanted you, not Kyle. Wanna go to a movie?’ and I would’ve gone, as sick and cold as it is, I would’ve, without a second damn thought.

He leaned closer to me and whispered, “What should I get Kyle for Christmas?”

My bubble burst, literally. It was like I saw it pop and fall around me and I swallowed _hard_. I swore I was gonna cry and I swallowed again just to be able to talk. “He uhm…he likes music, and clothes.”

“Music I can do but clothes…I’m not good at that.”

“We can go together,” I offered.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ll help.”

“Cool, we’ll go in a couple of days.”

“Okay,” I smiled. We had a date. Not a real one, but I could pretend.

He was smiling at me and I don’t know why, but I leaned forward and kissed him. I was just as surprised as he was and he just stood there for a minute then pushed me away. And laughed.

“Hey, don’t be getting all lovey dovey on me, man. I’m already taken.” He kept laughing until he realized I wasn’t.

“You’re kidding, right?”

I didn’t say anything, just blinked.

“That was just a joke…or you got caught up…?”

“Jason…” I said, but it was weak and he just stared at me. Then it clicked, I could see it in his eyes.

“That’s sick.”

“Jason, please…”

“I’m dating your BEST FRIEND.”

“I know, I’m…please.”

“You’re fucked.” He shook his head and fled the bathroom.

And I puked. All over the floor and myself.

I was pretty sure he’d told everyone, or at least Kyle. So I ran downstairs and luckily didn’t see either of them. I ran all the way home. My sister drove my car back.

When I got there, I got in the shower and just stood there. I didn’t know what to do. I knew I had no reason to be, but I was hurt. I cried. Which, I have to tell you, NEVER happens, like EVER.

I didn’t hear from Kyle for a week. I knew Jason had told him.

I finally couldn’t take it and called him on Christmas Eve.

He answered and I simply said, “Merry Christmas Ky.”

He scoffed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That you were gay too? We were supposed to be best friends.” He hung up.

That was the last thing Kyle ever said to me.

You know, they say heartache is just a feeling, something in the brain, that when your heart breaks you can’t feel it. That’s bullshit, complete and utter _bullshit_. I felt my heart break with the click of the phone, felt it crumble and the pieces fall. I was numb and cold, and worst of all, I couldn’t call Kyle for help.

So, a week later, I decided to do it. There was no quick decision, it wasn’t hasty and half-assed. There was no note intended.

My parents were at a New Years Eve party and I decided why not? Slip out with the old year without a word inTimes Square with the confetti falling and the ball dropping. It was a good plan.

Except it wasn’t inTimes Square, there was no confetti. But the ball was gonna drop.

I sat on my floor, staring at the tv, watching some New Years Eve countdown show.

When it got one minute to midnight, I slit one wrist with a knife from the kitchen. I’m not about to get all graphic and shit, there’s no need for that. But I’ll say it didn’t even hurt, just felt like a release. I waited until they started counting down before I did the other, then laid back with my wrists touching the carpet. It felt like getting out of the pool in the middle of summer and lying on the concrete, the seep of wetness and warmth against my legs. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. There was no white light, no tunnels, it was just dark. But it was peaceful and quiet.

Then suddenly there was noise and I was annoyed. My peaceful moment was ruined, my plan undone. I was pissed. I opened my eyes and my mom was screaming “oh my god, oh my god Ryan” over and over and my dad was kneeling beside me, resting his fingers against my neck and saying “c’mon Ryan, stay with me”.

Then it went black again. I heard I was pretty dead when the paramedics got there. Well almost. I didn’t hear the sirens of the ambulance as they supposedly sped towards the hospital running every red light possible. Which is a shame, the ambulance should’ve broken down. But it didn’t, and by the time I got there, I wasn’t breathing anymore and supposedly on deaths door. I know that because I wasn’t knocking on it; I was leaning on the bell, pounding AND kicking. But death didn’t answer, guess he was out for the night, and they were able to save me.

This was the one night my parents came home early. Normally they’re late, but I’ll be damned if that was the ONE night they decided to be courteous and come home literally just in time. Some call it fate, I call it one fucked up night.

So that’s what happened, that’s why I did what I did. Think what you want, but that’s the true story.

  
All that doesn’t really matter now though. I didn’t die, I’m alive. And I’m in the nuthouse because of it.

I don’t think what I did makes me crazy, I think it was totally logical. But hey, most people think what they do is logical. Schizo’s think putting tinfoil on their windows and throwing away all their clocks is logical because the eagle in the clock told them the alien’s were trying to invade their minds by using time and that the only way to stop them was to throw all the clocks out and to foil up the windows. Just because it doesn’t make a damn bit of sense to _us_ doesn’t mean it doesn’t make sense to _them_.

Hold on, I’m about to get all philosophical on you. See, sanity is relative. The sanity of any situation at any given time is relative. What may seem crazy now, in a few years, will make sense and what makes sense now may seem crazy in a few years.

For me, doing what I did won’t ever seem crazy. I know, at the time, I was fighting with myself and I did what I could in the battle. I’m still fighting with myself.

But that fight isn’t so intense now. It was hard discovering I was gay and I HATED it. I didn’t wanna deal with the bullshit that came with it, I just wanted to coast through life with my rose colored glasses on. But I can’t do that, not now that I know. And I’m not gonna lie either. I am who I am, there’s no if’s or ands about it, and I don’t wanna change.

But all this has made me think a lot, especially about what happened. I realize now that I didn’t love Jason as much as the idea of him, the idea of this perfect guy that I fell for. I really like Michael. With Michael it’s different. I’m not obsessed, like with Jason, which, now that I think about it, was weird. But with Michael, it’s this feeling of complete trust and adoration, and I think that’s better, even if we haven’t known each other that long.

  
When I get back to the room, I must look tired because Michael frowns slightly when he sees me.

“You okay?”

I wanna say yeah, that I’m fine. I nod at him then say, “No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“My parents came today…with my brother.”

“Is that bad?”

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

I sigh and look at him. “I asked if my best friend Kyle has asked about me and…he hasn’t.”

“Oh…that doesn’t sound like a good friend then.”

“I hurt him.”

“How?”

I chew my bottom lip and he looks me over.

“Is that why you did it?”

I want to say no, that Kyle had nothing to do with it. But I can’t. I nod and then I can’t help it, I tell him about it all. About Jason, the jealousy, the party, about when I did it. I don’t mean to, but it all comes pouring out.

By the time I’m done, he’s got his arms around me, holding me close to him and I relax into his hold. Something about it is so comforting and it just lets me rest. I don’t know when I fall asleep but when I wake up, we’re laying on my bed and he’s still holding me, rubbing my back.

I tilt my head up to kiss him softly and he smiles, kissing me back. I don’t know whether we’re boyfriend’s now or not but I don’t wanna ask. I guess I feel like it’s too soon or whatever.

I swear he can read my mind because he looks at me for a minute then looks away. “Are we just…I mean is this just gonna be for as long as we’re here or…what?” He takes a deep breath and looks down at me again. “I guess what I’m asking is if you’re gonna want me once we leave here.”

Funny how he always asks my questions and I have to answer them…but at least I get to tell him first. I sit up, turning to face him. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He shrugs and turns his head, facing his side of the room again. “I was just asking.”

“No you weren’t, you were asking for a reason.”

He sighs heavily. “It’s obvious you’re popular and stuff at your school. You’re hot and you’re amazing and…you just ARE, I _know_ it.”

I flush but don’t say anything. He turns back to look at me.

“I’m not. I’m not any of those things. I’m not popular, I’m not…I’m just not. And I was wondering if this is just something that’s gonna end when we leave.”

I lean in and kiss him. “We have each other’s number. If you don’t text me a million times a day, even if you just say ‘hey, the sky is super blue here today’ you will be getting a phone call from me complaining. And if you don’t call me at least once a day, I’ll be very upset. But don’t worry, I’ll call and text too, I’m not laying it all on you. We can IM and e-mail each other too. That’s the long answer. The short answer is no, this doesn’t stop when we walk out the doors.”

The look on Michael’s face is priceless. He takes a deep breath and pulls me to him, kissing me. I smile and wrap my arms around his neck. “Oh yeah,” I grin and nuzzle him, “My grandparents offer to send me one place every year and I always say no thanks. How about I fly to Baltimore in the summer? That’ll be something for us to look forward too…or maybe I’ll talk them into flying you to Florida.”

He looks like he’s about to burst and we kiss again.

I’m being totally serious too. I don’t want this to end. This doesn’t feel like one of those stupid teen romances, this is something different. This isn’t like what I felt for Jason. This is built on an understanding no one else has, and he understands that too. He understands this isn’t something you find in the stacks of the library or in the halls of high schools. This runs deeper than that.

We shift around and somehow I end up in his lap, which, let me tell you, I’m not complaining about. But we actually don’t spend the rest of the night making out or anything else, we sit there with our arms around each other, just taking it all in.

  
Day 30 is kinda big for me. In more ways than one.

When I go to see Why Man today, I don’t tell him why I did what I did, I don’t say anything really.

He asks if I have anything to say and I just tell him I’m gay. He still doesn’t miss a beat. Nothing fazes him.

“And how does that make you feel?”

“Scared…of what my parents are gonna say. But I’m ok with it…I’m dealing.”

“How did you realize it?”

I look at the clock and realize it’s time to go. “Maybe tomorrow,” I say and leave. I don’t wanna see him. I wanna see Michael.

When I get back to our room he’s laid out on his bed, looking at something on his phone. He doesn’t notice me so I go over and try to see what he’s looking at but he pulls the phone away.

“Hey,” he says, sitting up and I frown.

“What were you looking at?”

“Nothing. Anyway, how’d your brain-picking session go?”

I frown at him and he sighs. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Try me.”

He sighs again and hands me his phone. It’s a picture of a note which looks like a conversation between two people. I blow it up to read it.

‘did u hear phelps tried to off himself?’

‘haha wut?’

‘yeah, last weekend’

‘is he dead?’

‘nope’

‘oh. So he’ll come back’

‘yeah’

‘oh’

I frown at it and look up at him. He’s got his head down and is looking at his lap. That makes me more mad. “These people are assholes.”

“Yeah.”

“They are. Don’t pay attention to them.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“Michael…”

He sighs and finally looks up. “Ryan, how many times have you been the butt of a joke, I mean a _real_ joke? How many times have you had your hat stolen and tossed out a window? How many times have you had people deliberately knock the books out of your arms, or jam your locker, or put gum in your chair, or steal your gym clothes or your real clothes or put weird stuff in your food at lunch, or pretend to be your friend so they can win a bet or do something mean?”

I open my mouth, then close it because none of that stuff has happened to me. All through school I’ve been fairly popular, even when I still lived here in New York. So, even though I’ve seen it happen, I’ve never experienced it.

“It’s hard always being the loser, it’s hard always being the kid everyone laughs at and makes fun of. I’ve been in school what, ten, eleven years? Each and every one of them I’ve been the butt of the class jokes and I’m sick of it. I’m sick of always hurting.”

“Is that why you did it?” I’ve been curious, but he opened the door.

“Yeah. I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

I go over to him and hug him because I can’t see why anyone would wanna be mean to him. He’s cute and sweet…and yeah, I’m getting sappy over here.

He hugs me back then pulls away, looking to the window. Then he sighs, heavy, like he’s about to drop a bomb.

“I need to say something…but I don’t wanna scare you off.”

Well, okay, I was right. I look at him. “Please, what can you say that’d scare me?”

He squints his eyes and looks down. It’s snowing today. “I love you.”

It doesn’t scare me so much as shock me. He turns, looking at me again.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. I know it’s really soon and everything but…that’s how I feel…I just wanted you to know.”

He gets up to leave and I pull him back by the wrist, tugging him close to me. I lean up to kiss him softly.

“I love you too.”

He looks at me, seriously, and just stares for a minute, like after that exercise we did in group, until he’s satisfied and kisses me.

I smile. I love someone and they love me back. What a revelation. But seriously, I like that. I know, it’s sappy, but after all that shit with Jason, this is a relief.

  
Day 31 is when I finally start talking to Why Man.

Trying to fight him isn’t really worth it anymore and I only have 19 days left, so I don’t, I just kinda give in.

He asks me again if it was because I realized I was gay that I tried to kill myself. I sigh.

“No…not really…I don’t know…” I sigh again. “No, it wasn’t the whole reason.”

“What was?”

I look him straight in the eye. “Look, I’m gonna be honest with you, I’m not gonna tell you why I did it. I’ll tell you what happened before, but I won’t tell you why. You have to keep some stuff to yourself, and that’s one I’m keeping. I’ll answer your other questions, but I’m not telling you that.”

“That’s an essential thing you’re leaving out.”

“You’re a smart guy, I think you can work around it.”

“That’s not the point.”

“It is for me.”

He sighs. “Was it Kyle?”

“No.”

“Who is he to you?”

“My best friend.”

“Did you two have a fight?”

I don’t say anything.

He sighs again. “Well tell me what happened first.”

I look at the clock. “Maybe tomorrow.”

  
Day 32 I tell Why Man what happened.

I don’t tell him it’s why I did what I did, I just tell him how I realized I was gay, because of Jason.

I leave out the fight with me and Kyle.

I leave out Kyle period.

He nods after I tell him about Jason and writes some things down on his notepad.

“Was that the first guy you were ever interested in?”

“…Yeah.” Wasn’t that the whole point of me finding out I was gay? Ugh, whatever.

“And how did that make you feel?”

“Confused…I always thought I liked girls and then along came Jason and…I didn’t really know what to do.”

“Did you ever think it was just Jason you liked?”

“Yeah, but I know that isn’t true.”

“How do you know?”

I open my mouth and then close it. I can’t tell him about Michael.

“Did you find another person you liked?”

“Uh…what?” I’m kinda stuck on Mike.

“Another boy? Did you find one you liked after Jason?”

“Oh…yeah.”

“Was it Kyle?”

“What?”

“Kyle…”

“Ew, no.”

“Why ew?”

“We’re best friends…we’re nothing else.”

“Is Kyle gay?”

“That’s not my business to tell.”

He wrote on his notepad. I rolled my eyes.

“Have you ever kissed Kyle?”

“ _Excuse_ me?”

“I believe you heard my question quite clear.”

“He’s my best friend, why would I kiss him?”

“It’s not uncommon for young men your age to experiment wi—“

“Hold up…”

He stops talking, looking at me.

“Are you saying…that you think…that I practiced kissing…on _Kyle_?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“The hell it is.”

“So I take that as a no?”

“No shit Sherlock.”

“You’ve never kissed him ever?”

“No—“ I stop because, okay, in like, sixth grade, we played Spin The Bottle and it landed on Kyle, but that wasn’t anything. “Well I played Spin The Bottle with him once.”

“That wasn’t what I was talking about.”

“Well then no, I haven’t.”

“Why does talking about him upset you?”

“If you think it does, why do you keep mentioning him?”

“Did he do something?”

“There you go again, answering my question with questions.”

“Did you two fight?”

I look at the clock. “Maybe tomorrow.”

  
Day 33 I get bumped up to a Level Three “because of all your progress”. Go me.

I still don’t tell Why Man about the fight.

I don’t want him to figure it all out, but knowing him, he already has and that’s kinda scary.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People just don’t understand Ryan and the way his mind works…and he’s locked in a Psych Ward because of it, though, according to him, he’s completely sane. But along comes Michael and he gets Ryan and that’s all that matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately I don’t own the boys. This is completely AU which is abnormal for me. Style borrowed from three books I love: Skin Game, Cut, and Suicide Notes just in case you noticed. No copyright infringement intended. The descriptions of people and/or disorders is not meant to be derogatory or offensive, trust me. Also, this one is kinda personal for me, so if you’re gonna tear it apart, don’t do it in the comments ok? Thanks.

Day 35 is big for me. It’s the first time I get off with Michael.

Today is a snow day. All the doctors are snowed out and the nightshift is snowed in. They let us do whatever we want, so Michael and I just stay in our room.

We’re cuddled together on my bed when we start kissing and making out. We haven’t changed out of our PJ’s, and really, since they crank the heat up so high, we both just have on t-shirts and boxers.

So we’re laying there kissing when I feel his hand slide under my shirt and rest on my stomach. Since it’s Ruby and the night staff, I know they won’t bother with checks so I sit up and toss my shirt off. He smiles and I pull his shirt off too, throwing it on the floor. Then I climb under the covers because, just in case, we can make it look like we’re cold or something.

Anyway, we go back to kissing and he puts his hand on my stomach again. He’s got a thing about that, not that I’m really complaining though. But that’s when things change. He slides his hand into my boxers. At first I’m kinda shocked. He keeps making all the first moves even though he doesn’t seem like the type to do it. But that doesn’t matter. All that matters is his hand is inside my boxers and then he starts rubbing me and I have to kiss him to hide the sound I make.

He’s got his hand down my boxers and we’re kissing. That’s, like, big shit to me okay? Shut up. And somehow, through all that, my hand finds itself into his boxers and I start stroking him. We both moan into the kiss at the same time and he shifts closer to me.

We’re teenagers and we’re over excited; it doesn’t take long before we’re both coming. He’s got his face pressed into my neck and I’m up against his shoulder. He still manages to have one arm around me, holding me to him. I like that. It doesn’t feel like we’re just doing it, it feels good. I smile into his shoulder and bite him playfully. He laughs and slips his hand out of my boxers. He doesn’t move though, just holds me tight.

  
Day 36 my parents show up again.

I was kinda hoping it would be another snow day, but of course, because I’m hoping for it, it doesn’t happen.

Anyway, Why Man reminds them it isn’t long before I’m home and my mom gets really happy.

“Everyone really misses you,” she tells me. “Kristen and Megan are really excited andDevon…well you know Devon just can’t wait. Brandon thinks you’re sick so he’s a little weary of you coming home. He thinks you have cooties.”

I laugh. “Good ‘ol Brandon.”

My mom smiles. “I haven’t heard that laugh in a long time, baby, I’m glad to hear it.”

I smile.

My dad just grunts, looking over at me. “You’re getting in the pool first thing when we get home. He can…you know…his arms aren’t messed up are they?”

Why Man shakes his head. “His arms are perfectly fine.”

“Good. Your ass is back in the pool the day you get home. Understand?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. You’ve been dry too long.”

I nod.

My dad watches me intensely for a minute, then looks away. He’s still mad.

I look at my mom and she smiles.

“Michael’s a swimmer too,” I tell her and she blinks. I forget I haven’t told them.

“Who’s Michael?”

Why Man looks at me from the corner of his eye and I bite my lip.

“He’s another boy here. He’s from Baltimore and he’s 15…we’re roommates. He’s a really good swimmer too, we’ve looked at split times and everything. And I was thinking…” Then I stop because I realize I’m stepping in too deep here. They don’t know I’m gay and I shouldn’t be seeing Michael, so I shut up.

“That’s nice honey, I’m glad you’ve made a friend,” she smiles, but my dad narrows his eyes at me.

“You were thinking _what_?”

“Well…” I bite my lip. “You know how grandma and grandpa are always offering to send me someplace cool for the summer?”

“Yes…” He only says ‘yes’ when he’s in a bad mood or he thinks I’m up to something.

“Well…I was thinking that I could go to Baltimore this summer…to visit him…we wanna keep in touch.”

“That’s e-mail’s are for.”

“Well—“

“You can’t just _invite_ yourself to someone else’s house.”

My mom looks at him. “Steve…” Then she turns to me. “I think that’s a great idea honey, we’ll talk about it this summer okay?”

“Okay,” I nod and smile.

Then Why Man starts talking again and it’s jet plane time.

When they’re gone, Why Man looks to me.

“Do you like swimming?”

“Yeah, I love it.”

“Your dad’s hard about it.” It’s not a question.

“Yeah he is. He used to swim.”

“Did he make you swim?”

“No, not really. He got us into it when we were young, but I actually liked the water, so even though it’s a competition thing, I still really love doing it.”

“Us?”

“Yeah. My older sisters, Kristen and Megan, they swim too and so does my brotherDevon. We’re like a swimming family. My mom coaches too. But she doesn’t lay the pressure on as thick as my dad.”

He nods. “That’s good. Does he pressure you hard to win?”

“Yeah. I mean, we know that no matter how we do, he’s still gonna love us, but he likes it when we win. He’s a sports dad, of course he wants his kids to win.”

“He coaches you, correct?”

“Yeah, he does…”

He nods again. “We’re out of time for day.”

I nod this time and go back to my room.

When I get there, I flop down on the bed with Michael, on my stomach, and turn to face him.

“Parents?” he asks and I nod.

“Yeah. My dad’s bitchin’ because I’ve been out of the pool so long.”

“Yeah, my mom brought my coach today and he was like ‘as soon as you’re out of here, you’re back in the pool’.”

“My dad said the same thing.”

“Yeah, coaches are just like that.”

“How come she brought your coach? Where’s your dad?”

Michael blinks. “Oh uh…my parents are divorced.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah.”

“Does he know? That you’re here?”

“I dunno, she never said. He probably does, just doesn’t care.”

I shift up and kiss him softly. “I care.”

He smiles and kisses me back. “I know.”

“I love you,” I murmur against his lips.

“I love you too.”

  
Day 40 is HUGE. It’s the first time me and Michael have sex…

I’m not about to tell you every little detail of what happened because really…no.

But it’s been a snow day and we’re told the next day will be too which means the night staff has to stay again. So they devise a plan.

There’s rooms in a different part of the cottage for staff. There’s one door that leads from the dorms to the rest of the cottage and they decide to lock it. There’s fire doors at either end of the hall that unlock in the case of a fire so we don’t have to worry about that. They tell us that they’ll be down to check on us at ten the next morning.

So Michael and I decide to spend the night in my bed. We cuddle up to each other and Michael’s really hot. No, like literally, he’s like a furnace, so I kick off everything but my boxers and so does he. We just lay there for a while, facing each other, and Michael’s hand is tracing circles on my thigh. I lean up and start kissing him and at first, everything goes like it’s been going. We’re just making out.

Then, and I don’t know WHY I do it, but I roll onto my back and pull Michael on top of me. At first I think he’ll be really heavy, but it feels good. He shifts a little so he’s right between my thighs and we go back to making out. I slide my hands up his back, his hands are on my hips, and we’re kissing…like REALLY kissing. He’s sucking on my tongue and I slide my hands into the back of his boxers, pulling him closer.

I’m not sure where this is coming from. Maybe, in the back of our minds, we just know what to do. I heard in Psych 101 there’s something like the “primitive brain” or whatever and all it knows is it wants to live, eat, and have sex. Maybe I’m operating off that, I dunno, but I do know that I start pushing his boxers down and Michael pulls away slightly. At first I think he thinks we’re going too fast but he’s just pulling his boxers the rest of the way off, then tugging on mine. I lift my hips to help him get them off. Then he settles between my legs again and I have to tell you, making out naked is a lot better than with clothes on. Every time we move we’re rubbing against each other and moaning into our kisses and…yeah, it’s _good_.

I shift lower on the bed and the way I’m positioned, he rubs against me perfectly and I moan softly. It’s kinda weird to know what you want together. It’s like he’s reading my mind again because he shifts and reaches over for one of those generic bottle of lotion they give you at hotels that’s sitting on my dresser. I was using it earlier. I know what that means, I’m not dense. He looks down at me, silently asking permission. I spread my legs slightly to let him know it’s okay. I am NOT gonna ask him if he looked this up or just knows, and for once, he doesn’t answer my question. It’s cold when his finger presses against me, but he’s warm. He kisses me to distract me as he gently pushes his finger in. It feels weird, but I don’t want him to stop or anything, I just wrap my arms around him.

He takes his time prepping and distracting me. He kisses me all over as he moves his fingers and by the end I’m pushing back against his hand, asking him for more. He shifts up, gently pulling his fingers free. It’s pretty dark and I can’t really see anything except for his face, but I know he’s shifting around and then he’s shifted between my legs again, looking down at me with a soft smile. He leans down and brushes our lips together.

“I love you…I really love you.”

I lock eyes with him. “I’ve never been in love before.” I can tell it’s not what he expects to hear, and I can’t even believe I’m being this sappy, but what I’m about to say is true. I keep our eyes locked because I want him to KNOW it’s the truth. “But I know I’m in love with you and I know this is right. I love you too.”

He blinks for a minute then smiles, leaning in to kiss me as he gently slides inside. He must figure I’m gonna tense because he rubs my side slowly as we kiss, gradually calming me down. He stops when he’s all the way in, just breathing heavily. It’s hurts a little, but not as much as I thought, maybe because he took such a long time prepping me. It doesn’t matter, it just matters that he’s careful with me, and I like that.

We’re still mouth to mouth so we’re panting together, staring at each other. That’s more intense than anything else, the look in his eyes, how we’re breathing together, and how we’re just…together. I can’t really describe it, it’s just this powerful…thing. And I know he feels it too. I can tell in the way he takes my hand and laces our fingers together, squeezing me lightly. I can feel it in the way he’s breathing WITH me, the way he’s looking at me.

He kisses me softly, then nuzzles my nose. “Ready?” he murmurs softly and kisses me again.

I nod slightly and lean up, kissing him back. “Yeah.”

“Tell me to stop if you need me too, okay?” He looks me dead in the eye. He’s not asking me, he’s telling me. I nod.

“I will.”

“Okay.” He kisses me again, slower this time and moves his hips. I breathe in sharply, but I keep kissing him. He deepens it, keeping me focused on that as he moves.

It takes a minute, but then my hips start moving back against him and he smiles. He doesn’t go for my neck like he’s been doing, just keeps looking at me. The only time we close our eyes is when we kiss. I think it’s this mutual thing where we just wanna see each other, I dunno, but we keep looking. That it until he hits _that_ spot and I tilt my head back, moaning his name softly. He squeezes my hand and moans back to me and then things change. We’ve been pretty quiet so far, but after that, I can’t stop moaning softly at him. Things just keep intensifying between us and eventually I look at him again. He keeps his movements slow but strong, and he’s looking right at me. I don’t know what it is about that that turns me on so much, but it really, _really_ does.

I reach up, wrapping one arm around him, holding him closer to me. His hips get slightly faster and I know we’re both close. We’re still looking at each other, his hand is on my hip and he’s rubbing me slowly. I push my hand into his hair and shift, getting my legs around him and he moans. He’s got his hips perfect so every time he’s hitting _that_ spot and I squeeze my legs around him, letting him know. He squeezes my hand and his movements get stronger, not faster, and I grip his hand.

I can tell when his breathing changes and I can feel his body tense at the same time mine does. We keep looking at each other until he does something with his hips and I’m squeezing him everywhere I’ve got a hold on him. I try to keep my moan quiet, but it’s louder than I intend it to be. My eyes close, my back arches, and I moan again.

It’s not until I open my eyes that I feel him start to shake and his eyes close. He moans my name and I squeeze my legs around him, holding him close. He squeezes my hand hard and then he relaxes. He manages not to just fall on me which is good because he’s a big boy and that might not be a great thing. He does lay down on me though, panting heavily. I run my hand through his hair lightly as he we lay there, catching out breath.

Eventually our breathing goes back to normal and I run my hand down his back lightly.

“I love you,” I smile.

“I’m in love with you too.” He tilts his head up, looking at me. I smile wider and he leans up, giving me a kiss.

We fall asleep like that, him just resting on top of me and my legs around him. It feels good to lay there with him. I’m gonna miss it when we leave.

  
Day 43 is unfortunately NOT a snow day.

My parents come down for a short visit. They’ve gotta be back because Kristen has a meet so they don’t stay long.

Why Man reminds them I’m coming home in a week and my mom gets all excited again.

“Aren’t you happy about going home?”

“Yeah, can’t wait,” I tell her, but it’s a lie. I’d actually rather stay.

As much shit as I’ve talked about this place, it really isn’t so bad. And if I had the choice, I’d stay here with Michael. But if Michael isn’t here, I guess home is good.

She smiles brightly at me and I smile back.

Why Man and my parents start talking again and I just relax with the jet planes.

They leave early and Why Man turns to me, but I ask the first question.

“If…y’know…if you were gay…would you tell your parents now or…wait?”

He shifts uncomfortably and pushes his glasses up. “I didn’t tell my parents until I was 25.”

I blink. “…Oh…well, what happened?”

“This isn’t about me, Ryan.”

“I know but this might help me.” I am SO conning him.

“My father didn’t speak to me for six months and my mother is still praying for my soul.”

“Wow…”

“It wasn’t the ideal situation but I dealt with it.”

“So…do you think I should tell them?”

“That isn’t my decision Ryan, that’s something you have to decide.”

I knew he was gonna say that, but it was worth a try.

“I don’t know what to say?”

“Would you like to rehearse some possible outcomes tomorrow?”

“Sure,” I say, then I bite my lip. “How old were you when you realized you were gay?”

“I was 15-years-old.”

“You waited ten years?”

“It took me ten years to be comfortable enough with myself to tell them.”

I nod and get up.

When I get back to my room, Michael’s laying on my bed. He smiles at me and I smile back, going to lay beside him.

“What’s up?”

“I’m tryin to figure out how to tell my parents I’m gay…and then about you.”

Michael looks at me and nods. “Me too…I don’t think my mom’ll freak out too much and Bob won’t care as long as I keep swimming and not ogling guys in their Speedo’s.”

I punch him in the shoulder lightly. “The only guy you better be ogling in a Speedo is ME.”

He smiles. “There’s no one who would look better in one.”

“You’ve never seen me in one, how would you know?”

“Do you have a picture?”

I sit up and reach for my phone, scrolling through it. I’m sure my mom has used my phone to take at least ONE picture of me. Sure enough, in the camera roll, there’s one. I text it to him.

“Yeah, I was right. No one looks better.”

I grin and blush. “Shut up.”

He laughs.

I bite my lip, looking at him. “Would you hate me if I hold off on telling my parents about you?”

He doesn’t say anything, then I realize how it sounds.

“It’s just that…I’m scared if I tell them, they won’t let me come to Baltimore this summer and I don’t want anything to screw that up for us…I REALLY wanna come see you.”

“Maybe we should both wait then…see how it goes with our parents and then figure out what to do.”

“Maybe,” I nod.

“We’ll see how it goes okay?”

“Okay,” I nod again and kiss him softly. “You know I’m not ashamed that we’re dating…right?”

“I know.”

“Okay, just making sure.”

He smiles and kisses me again.

  



	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People just don’t understand Ryan and the way his mind works…and he’s locked in a Psych Ward because of it, though, according to him, he’s completely sane. But along comes Michael and he gets Ryan and that’s all that matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately I don’t own the boys. This is completely AU which is abnormal for me. Style borrowed from three books I love: Skin Game, Cut, and Suicide Notes just in case you noticed. No copyright infringement intended. The descriptions of people and/or disorders is not meant to be derogatory or offensive, trust me. Also, this one is kinda personal for me, so if you’re gonna tear it apart, don’t do it in the comments ok? Thanks.

Why Man and I spend the next week worth of counseling sessions rehearsing the different things that could happen.

Let me tell you, I don’t know HOW actors do the same scene over and over. By the end of each session, I’m totally exhausted.

But Michael and I make the most of our last week together.

We manage to have sex two more times, almost getting caught both times. I mean, my guardian angel must be SITTING on my ass, literally.

It’s hard for us to play it cool when we’re around everyone else, who, by this time, I’m actually talking too. I still don’t talk that much though, it’s really a me and Michael thing.

We’re both scared of leaving this place but, really, of leaving each other. It’s kinda the whole, ‘we’re a million miles away from each other, don’t forget me’ thing. But with cell phones, texting, and the internet, you can’t forget someone unless you’re TRYING too. But that doesn’t mean we’re not scared to be that far away either.

But we’re dealing with it. We’re in this mutual agreement that texting and calling everyday is a must and we don’t care of it looks like we’re totally obsessed with each other. When you’re used to being with someone every single day and then suddenly they’re gone, it’s gotta be hard. But we got this.

  
Day 49 is the day before I’m released.

It’s the last real day me and Michael will have together.

It’s also the day I tell my parents I’m gay.

Me and Michael both leave tomorrow since he only had 45 days.

We both lay awake all night thinking and talking because we know what we have to do tomorrow.

So the day starts normally, but for lunch they surprise us by letting out families eat with us. Michael and I just decide to combine our tables so we can still eat together.

Our families are milling around the lunchroom when I catch Michael’s eyes. He waves me over and I stand beside him. Without even thinking about it I grab his hand and he smiles at me.

“Mom, this is Ryan. Ry, this is my mom.”

I hold out my other hand to her but she hugs me instead.

“It’s lovely to finally to meet you Ryan, Michael’s been telling me a lot about you. You’re a swimmer too I hear.”

“Yeah,” I nod.

“What’re your events?”

“Oh, I’m a backstroker mostly, but I like the IM’s too.”

She nods and smiles then points to a man getting food. “That’s Michael’s coach, Bob.”

I nod and then she pulls two girls over. “These are Michael’s sisters, Whitney and Hilary. Girls, this is Michael’s friend Ryan.”

Whitney looks at our hands and then at Michael. “Hi Ryan.”

I smile and say hi back, but I don’t let his hand go.

After a few more minutes of chatting I pull him towards my family. My dad looks us over but goes back to eating and my mom smiles.

“Guys, this is Michael. Mike, this is my mom, my dad, my sisters Kristen and Megan, and my brothersDevon and Brandon.” I’m grinning like an idiot and so is he. We’re still holding hands.

My mom gets up and hugs us both.

“Ryan told us about you, it’s great to finally meet you,” she smiles. “He said he’s thinking about visiting you this summer.” Michael nods and she looks over. “Is that your mom?”

Michael nods again and she goes over, introducing herself. They stand there talking, both of them gesturing to us as they talk. Then she motions my dad over and Michael’s mom calls Bob over and all four of then stand there talking for a while. Me and Michael sit down and have lunch. It’s meatloaf day, thank god.

When they’re done, the four of them crowd around us.

“Debbie and I think it’s a great idea for two to visit each other,” my mom announces. “And your dad and Bob are in agreement as long as you stick to summer schedules.”

Me and Michael look at each other. I can see how bad he wants to kiss me right now, but we both swallow it down and grin at our parents. Then we get up and start our round of thank you’s because we really are happy.

Michael bites his lip and looks at me then says he has to go to the bathroom. I say I do too and follow him. We wait until we’re inside and hidden before we kiss. He’s hugging me tight and I’m clinging to him.

“You’re really coming,” he grins, kissing me again.

I smile into the kiss, still holding onto him. “I know…ugh, I’ve never wanted summer so bad.”

“Me either.”

We stand there holding onto each other for a little longer before we finally head back to the table, settling beside each other. Whitney looks up and smirks at us. I catch Kristen smirking too and then the two of them catch eyes. It must be secret sister speak because they both seem to understand and go back to their lunches. Michael and I look at each other then shrug and finish our food.

After lunch we do our study hall thing then head to our individual counseling sessions. Why Man is waiting with my family.

My mom and dad are bickering over something, Brandon and Devon are playing with toys, and Megan and Kristen are whispering about something when I walk in.

I sit in the cow chair and suddenly my heart is in my throat. I know what I’m gonna be telling them soon and I can’t seem to catch my breath.

Finally my mom speaks up, looking at me. “We changed the carpet in your room honey…remember how a while ago you said you wanted it blue like the deep ocean? Well that’s what color it is.”

My dad rolls his eyes. “Ike, he doesn’t give a damn about the carpet. I’m telling you we should’ve left it.”

They keep going back and forth and finally Why Man looks at me.

“Ryan, is there anything you’d like to say to your family?”

I take a deep breath, but my parents are still arguing, so I turn to my siblings.

“Hey, how’d you guys like to have a gay brother?”

My parents stop talking and turn to me.

Kristen and Megan grin and both say, “I KNEW IT!” at the same time.

Brandon  
doesn’t really get it so he keeps playing but  Devon  
goes, “No shit? COOL!”

My dad blinks. I can literally see the record scratch in his head before he says, “Sweet Jesus Christ on a biscuit,” then sinks back on the couch.

My mom stares at me. “You’re too young to know if you’re gay.”

“Nuh-uh!” Kristen informs her. “My friend Jess’ younger brother is gay and he’s only sixteen. Maybe I could hook you two up…or wait, I guess you don’t need me too.” She smirks at me and I roll my eyes.

My parents are still in shock and I take a deep breath. I’ve been rehearsing what I wanna say to them, but I draw a blank so I just start talking. “Mom, dad, I know you think I’m too young or I must be confused or something, but I’m not. I know what I am. I’ve known for a little while now…and I’m okay with it. I can’t change who I am and neither can you. I’m not expecting y’all to do cartwheels or anything, but just accept me because I’m not gonna change. It took a lot for me to be happy with who I am…” I look down at my wrists, “…but I am and that’s all there is to it.”

I look up again and my mom has tears in her eyes. She gets up and hugs me. “Honey, I’m gonna love you no matter what. I don’t care if you’re gay, straight, blue, green, alien or human, you’re my child and I love you.”

I smile a little and look over at my dad. He still looks like the record hasn’t started again in his head. She looks over too.

“I’ll work on him tonight.”

I nod and sink back in the cow chair. I’m exhausted now, more exhausted than I’ve been in a long time, and I sigh softly.

Why Man asks that me and my siblings go into the other room for a few minutes and we do. Brandon wants snacks so my mom gives him five bucks and makes Devon and Megan take him down to the vending machines.

That leaves me and Kristen. She smirks and nudges my shoulder.

“Michael’s your boyfriend isn’t he?”

“Why would you say that?”

“You were holding hands and you two just…look like it.”

“You won’t tell mom and dad right?” I bite my lip, looking up at her.

“Nah.”

“Thanks…I just think they might not let me go if they know.”

“You really like him huh?” I go quiet and start thinking about him and she just watches me. Then she takes a deep breath. “Whoa…”

“What?”

“You’re in love with him.”

“Shut up.”

“That’s a yes.”

“What ARE you, a mind reader?”

“I’m a girl, it’s close enough.”

I roll my eyes and smile a little. “Yeah, I’m in love with him.”

She smiles at me. “I won’t even tease you.”

“Thanks.”

I stay quiet until Brandon, Devon, and Megan come back and Why Man calls us all back in.

He gives us some general stuff about us having a phone session once a week and maybe finding a psychiatrist down in Florida just in case.

After that, my family leaves and I’m just sitting there. I’m so tired it’s crazy.

Why Man looks at me. “That was a very brave thing you did.”

“I had to. They’d have found out anyway.”

“Did they react how you expected them too?”

“No…I don’t know what I was expecting, but that wasn’t it.”

He nods then looks at the clock. “Your schedule has been done away with for the rest of the day. You look like you’ll need to sleep before dinner.”

I nod at him and get up. I’m at the door before I turn around. “Thank you,” I tell him, smiling slightly, “For everything.” Then I leave.

Michael’s waiting in our room and the first thing he does is engulf me in a hug. I smile and wrap my arms around him, thankful he’s there.

“How’d it go?” he asks as he kisses my hair.

“Okay. My brothers and sisters are happy. Kristen figured us out…”

“So did Whitney.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Me either. How’d your parents take it?”

“My mom was okay. My dad is in shock. What about you?”

“My mom was both and Bob just sighed.”

I nod and press my face into his neck, relaxing against him. “I’m really tired.”

“Me too.”

“I think we deserve a nap.”

“I do too.”

I pull away and take his hand, leading him to my bed. We cuddle up and take a nap together.

When the bell rings for dinner we go sit in the dinning room and eat. Chris and Holden are saying how much they’re gonna miss us and how it’s gonna suck around here after we’re gone. We just smile and say we’ll miss them too, but we know what we’ll really miss is each other.

We skip tv and the rest of the stuff, just going back to our room to spend time together. We end up having sex again, which I was kinda hoping for. This is the last time we’ll see each other for months and that’s a long time when you’ve been this close on a regular basis.

After we just hold onto each other. He doesn’t bother moving to his own bed because we’re leaving tomorrow anyway, so what’re they gonna do, kick us out in the middle of the night? I doubt it. We stay curled up together, kissing and cuddling until we fall asleep.  
___________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Day 50 is the day it’s over.

I wake up in Michael’s arms with him kissing me softly and I really wish this is how every morning could be. But I know it can’t, so I just close my eyes and enjoy it.

When we have to get up, we pack all of our stuff, double checking to make sure we got everything. I slip him a pair of my gym shorts and a t-shirt. He gives me a pair of his basketball shorts and his Baltimore Ravens t-shirt. We hug each other for a long time and I know I’m gonna miss him bad. He rubs my back and kisses the top of my head, telling me he loves me over and over. I hold onto him tightly and tell him I love him too.

We have pancakes for breakfast then they gather all the patients from our age unit. We all say goodbye and hug.

Then Michael and I go to our last counseling sessions.

Why Man smiles at me.

“You were very hard to work with.”

“I know.”

He nods and stands up. He actually hugs me.

“To be honest, you may be a pain-in-the-ass, but you’re a good kid.”

I smile. “Thanks.”

“Remember, we have a phone session once a week.”

“I know.”

“But if you need to speak to me before that or if you’re feeling suicidal in any way, please give me a call.”

“I will,” I nod and turn to leave. The he smirks at me.

I’m kinda confused by that.

“What?” I ask him.

“You know, this is just a tip. But, if you want to keep a relationship quiet, you should be a little less obvious. Just, you know, for future reference.”

I stare at him and he smiles.

Two points for me, one HUGE point for him.

I shake my head and leave the office, catching Michael in the hall. I bite down on my lip and take his hand, lacing our fingers.

We walk slow, like we’re being led to the gas chamber, until we get to the front of the cottage. I’m surprised to see Ruby there. She hugs both of us tight and tells us she’ll miss us, then gives us each a bag of the butterscotch candies. I tell her I’m really gonna miss her too. She smiles the leaves. I guess she stayed to say goodbye.

Michael and I take a deep breath and my eyes are burning, bad. I grind my teeth to keep from crying, just reach up and wrap my arms around his neck tightly. He holds me for a while, rocking me slightly, until they say we have to go. I sniff hard and kiss him, tell him I love him and that I’ll see him this summer.

He smiles and kisses me back, running a hand through my curls.

“I’m gonna miss you.”

“No you won’t,” he smiles. “I’m only a phone call away, remember?”

I smile even though I’m about to cry and hug him again.

We don’t actually pull away until his mom comes to get him. She smiles at us and pulls Michael along to the van outside that’s taking us to the airport. Me and Michael climb in the back and hold on for as long as we can.

Our last goodbye is in the middle of the airport. His flight leaves now, mine doesn’t for another half hour. But he holds me until his flight boards, then he kisses me one last time.

“I love you. I’ll see you this summer okay?”

I nod and kiss him again. “I love you too. Call me when you land okay?”

He nods and hugs me tight. “Bye.”

“See you later.”

He smiles and kisses my forehead. “Later gator.”

I watch him walk down the tunnel with his mom and Bob and then I walk towards my family and bypass them for the bathroom.

I already told you, I’m NOT a crier. But I can’t help it. I go into one of the stalls and sit down, then cover my face with my t-shirt. I really try not to cry because I know it’s stupid. I’m gonna see him in the summer and I know he’ll call me everyday. It doesn’t stop me from crying enough to get the hiccups though.

When I’m done I splash water on my face and come out, sinking into one of the chairs by our gate.

It’s gonna be a LONG flight and a long wait.  
___________________________________________________________________________________________________  
It’s been almost a year since I left Club Meds.

I talk to Why Man once a week like I promised.

I talk to Michael a couple times a day.

I talked my grandparents into doing a half and half summer. I flew up to Baltimore for half of the summer break and he flew down to Florida for the other half.

I wasn’t even ashamed that I damn near cried when I saw him again. I missed him so much. You don’t realize how much talking and texting just doesn’t do it until you KNOW.

We went around to all our favorite places and introduced each other to our friends. Me and Kyle are talking again, but barely. I did introduce him to Michael though and he was nice enough.

And yeah, okay, if you’re wondering, I hit that every chance I had. He’s my boyfriend, we’re teenagers, what’d you expect? But it still feels special, it doesn’t matter how many times we do it. Shut up, I’m allowed to be sappy.

So it’s our plan every summer to split it. We’re working on doing holidays too. I wouldn’t mind spending Christmas with him or having him here to kiss on New Years Eve.

This year, I’m sitting on my floor in front of the TV watching some random count down show. But it’s different. This time I have my phone pressed to my ear, counting down. And when the ball drops, I blow a kiss into the phone.

“I love you,” Michael says and I smile.

“I love you too.”

“Hey…did I ever tell you I love your parents?”

Michael can be random, so I go with it. “No, why?”

“Because they saved you.”

I blush and say, “Shut up.”

He laughs.

And you know what, I’m glad they saved me too. If they hadn’t, I wouldn’t have this and this, I’ve come to realize, is better than anything else.


End file.
